"I was sitting in my apartment one night, and I started playing a song. It sounded like this: (Plays acoustic sort of like a banjo type tune). Then I decided to slow it down a little bit and it sounded like this: (Plays beginning of name) I kinda liked it so I went to Rob and said, 'What do you think of this?' (Starts playing the beginning of Name). Robby said he liked it so we decided to put it on the album. So we went  to the studio and recorded it. We figured we would stick it right in the middle of the album and hope no one would find it. So a couple of months later I'm driving down the street in my car, turn on the radio, and I hear THIS (Plays the beginning of name) FUCK...that fucking god awful shitty song! So, I'm like, it's over- we're finished! Then I'm in the supermarket at about 3 am one night and I'm cruising down the aisle with my cart....buying my peanut butter and jelly...my kitty litter...and what do I hear coming out of the speakers? (Plays beginning of Name and stops abruptly, make a static sound, and talks in a funny intercom voice) Pick up on aisle 6! (finishes beginning of Name) FUCK! (He pauses) So here I was-I had it all, no money, no nothing, but itleast I had my punk rock image and my fucking Indie label, you know? And out of nowhere this song comes out and knocks me on my fucking ass! So I was like 'Damn!' And to top it all off, a couple months later, I get this letter in the mail right? I open up and it says:

Dear Faggot You SUCK, I hate that fucking song. You're a SELL OUT. FUCK OFF signed Punk Rocker

But I thought to myself; every time I do this (Plays Name) you guys do that! (Crowd goes wild) But I guess you can't please everyone, so I get out my pen and paper and write

Dear Punk Rocker: Eat a bag of SHIT! Love, Faggot
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