30 Years On, I think that “Postliberal” sums it up best
O/T, but I thought you'd be interested in this paragraph (the last 3 lines):Last week, I blogged about listening to your muse. Of course, I have a feeling most of you don’t have a muse that is as loud, annoying and evil as mine happens to be. Mine wouldn’t know now to be retiring and quiet if both our lives depended on it. Because of that, I don’t have much choice in the matter. When Myrtle the Muse decides I need to listen, she does her very best to make sure I do. If I refuse, she punishes me. How, you ask, does a muse punish her writer? In one instance, Myrtle demanded that I listen, over and over and over again, to the soundtrack of Mama Mia.
Tried to bold the last three, and they got left out. Here they are:The movie soundtrack. The soundtrack sung mainly by folks who should never open their mouths to sing in public. I wasn’t a big Abba fan before then. Now, I absolutely detest the group.
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