Monday, October 5, 2009

Follow the golden fox down the golden hall.

Dance party. Can we talk about it?

In Los Angeles, I say Golden Filter, you say jump. Or dance, or get low, or hey how may authentidisco girls do you think I could take home? Because, after all, they taste like bubblegum and shattered disco ball shards.
Here, no one bites. Oh well.
Looks like I'll be that loner kid in neon tomorrow.

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