The Thousands

It kills me that Pearl Jam will still be around when grunge comes back in. I died my hair green in year 8 to go see them just so I could stand three rows from the back and pretend to know the words. And no, I didn’t see them at Sydney Entertainment Centre when the crowd tore down the barrier – I was at home playing Mortal Kombat. I was hoping someone would get me the vinyl edition of Vitalogy for my Bah Mitzvah, but, alas. I only really wanted it for the awesome packaging and bragging rights.

That niggling tale of grunge and regret has finally come to an end. If only I had have known that one day I would have the real Vitalogy book that the cover art was based on I would have saved myself a lot of trouble. Just think about all of those wasted man hours memorising the words to ‘Jeremy’ and ‘Better Man’.

Instead I can now wisely spend my man hours giggling over cures for Spotted Fever, Gout, the Clap, Dyspepsia and Seminal Emissions (giggle). What alarms me most is the extensive notes a previous owner has made next to Chronic Constipation. I hope for their sake the five tablespoons of scraped turnip helped soothe their ailment.