Tarzan Of The Eighties

Right. We can burn it together if you would like. We could take the memory of your traumatic (or is it dramatic?) high school years and burn the memory away. We can even take your old prom dress and burn it. Piss on it. Put it in our soup and shit it out later. I would do all this for you. But it is mainly for me, as I have always wanted to eat a dress. And a prom dress is fancy, and I like fancy food.
I think I am going to give up trying to find the best song ever. Because I think it is rather evident that it is, Clarinet Concerto in A Major, by one Mozart. I haven't heard of him before, but apparently he did some shit a while ago. Judging by the quality, I'd say he also composed Footloose.
Where would I look if I wanted to find some serious shit? Like some wonderful type shit. I don't even know what I am looking for. But I know I want to find it.
I was thinking today about some shit I thought I might share with you now. The idea of sharing it with you is not the idea, I actually just thought of that. I mean I just thought to share it with you, not my what I was thinking earlier. I mean I was thinking of what I was thinking about earlier, but it wasn't the point of the subject. I just recently was thinking about what I was thinking about earlier and then I thought to share it with you. I apologize I didn't think the later thought until later. But I did recently think of it, but I assure you it is not because you are a second-class citizen. It is because I am unthoughtful and a jerk toward you.
Anyway, what I was thinking was, wouldn't it be really cool like if blogging were like the mall? And like all of our blogs represented the stores or people in said mall. But then I thought that my blog would be the Hallmark store because it is mostly useless and vacant. I hate that fucking store. That and Yankee Candle both eat it.