I’m listening to a radio show that’s playing some extremely choice and very obscure early-80s Northern California punk music.

I am cringing, cringing, CRINGING. There was a silly novelty-record feeling to a lot of that music (even the Dead Kennedys were very goofy a lot of the time).

I’m not cringing from the sounds per se, but more from remembering what a little punker poser asshole I was in those days. Oh my god.

I was neither tough nor cool. Just a degenerate, disrespectful, petty criminal.

Ack. Flooded by memories. Let’s just move on, shall we?