You need time spent sitting in the terraces of an abandoned football ground or stood oscillating on the black rubber seat of a playground swing, shooting the actual shit, to really know someone.
I believe intact families, parents that give a shit, that want to know if you're doing your homework, those are what create better school systems.
Shit, you need to know a huge backlog of info just to say "Hey, what's new?" to a Signals player.
I don't mean like kilos of the shit, but enough to know that I'm not going to even go a single day without weed in a foreign country that I wouldn't be able to pick up in.
Whereas Siri, Cortana, and Alexa fill in as secretaries, organizing your schedule, fetching information, and facilitating transactions, Hugging Face wants nothing more than to shoot the shit and get to know you.
I don't mean like kilos of the shit, but enough to know that I won't ever have to go a day without weed in a foreign country.
You've got to know your shit and knowing your shit means spending hours on Discogs dipping into your overdraft and enduring tedious tech-house workout sets from names you're meant to recognise.
True, a band shouldn't be judged by its name, but they sound like Fleetwood Mac (or, by their own admission, Jethro Tull); whereas with the Nipple Erectors, Slaughter & the Dogs or the Snivelling Shits, you tended to know what to expect.
