Your web-browser is very outdated, and as such, this website may not display properly. Please consider upgrading to a modern, faster and more secure browser. Click here to do so.
There are days I lose faith. There are days when I’m close to giving up hope, close to throwing 20 years of records, toys and comics out into the street and cutting my throat. And, not surprisingly, most of those days come when I spend any amount of time thinking about U2.
I can’t think of U2 without remembering that Henry Rollins bit about watching “Live at Red Rocks” and wanting to be a sniper, picking off Bono. If you Google “U2” + “insufferable”, you get 313,000 results in 0.28 seconds. U2 gave rise to Coldplay. U2 was what three members of Minor Threat wanted to shoot for when they eventually broke up. U2 is a group of Irish billionaires masquerading as leprechauns. U2 is for people who think the Rolling Stones are too trashy. U2 secretly hates you. U2 just plays the same riff over and over again. U2 has a member named the Edge.
I hope their private jet/limo/hydrofoil explodes and showers the surrounding countryside with sunglasses and $100 bills.
I’m fucking done with it.