I am green with envy. Jack Johnson! Filles de Kilimanjaro! Fucking sweet. The only one of those I have on vinyl is After The Goldrush, which incidentally I also nabbed from my father's LPs.
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The toothaches got worse, she dreamed of disembodied voices from whose malignance there was no appeal, the soft dusk of mirrors out of which something was about to walk, and empty rooms that waited for her. Your gynaecologist has no test for what she was pregnant with.
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