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edit Oh hell, officer, I swear to police I was not God, honest.
You don't need to know anything about me, except for the fact that I am one of the last remaining vestiges of old-timey tradition left on this Earth! Why, I remember back when we didn't have FM radio -- what the hell is FM anyway? -- and we listened to all our great songs on the AM frequency. Now you've got those nuts on the AM stations, the ones who can't decide whether or not they want to assassinate the president, bend down over for him, or what. I mean, hell, back in my day, you were proud of your president and you were proud of your country! Even if that meant eating old leather shoes during the Great Depression. But that builds character; why, you were lucky if you got salt for your shoes. Salt wasn't meant for shoes anyway! Salt was meant for trading with the other neighborhood whippersnappers for pin-ups of Clara Bow.
Man, I miss Clara Bow. But where was I? Oh, right! Back in the day, we would listen to our favorite music on the AM stations; that meant Chuck Berry, Vivaldi, Plato, all of the greats. We used to have it on when we were working on the Pyrami-- what's that? Oh, fiddlesticks, I don't need those pills or sleep! Sleep is for the weak! Pills are for dead-beat drug addicts. Oh hell, don't say that nurse. Okay, just as long as I don't get dragged away again. Can you at least turn off the fancy flashy thing I've been talking into? No? You dirty litt