Rollins was the hero of my youth. I spent a good majority of my freetime from '83 to '88 following he and Greg Ginn all over Chicago anytime they were in town. I cleaned gutters, mowed lawns and pumped gas for rich fags to get the scratch to check them out. I probably saw them about a dozen times. When they weren't in town, I dropped a bunch of my disposable income on Black Flag vinyl and Thrasher or MMR mags that had interviews with the band or even just album reviews.
Fast forward to about 2003 or so, when I caught Henry on The Tonight Show. Watching him yuck it up with Jay, shilling some bit part he scored in some terrible movie, it was all I could do to contain my gorge. He was the epitome of the Hollywood Whore.
Fuk Henry right in his sellout ass.
____________________ My liver is full of dried fartpudding. Scorched Earth was a savage success.
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She is definitely a goddess, but she probably is a bitch. See how sour grapes make me feel better because I will never fondle her lovelies? -- freakmachine