iPods are for Devil-worshippers

I've sold my little sister to the devil for an iPod, and after two weeks of near-constant work, I have finally loaded all my CDs onto its unholy harddrive.

If you can't find me tomorrow, it is because I have become one of those trendy black shadow things with white earphones you see in the commercials. You know what I'm talking about -- the soulless, two-dimensional wisps of humanity where a soul used to reside. Worst commercials ever.



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