Chinese democracy to be delayed (The salts enter the line at Best Buy for one last chance)

21) The last low pop of the Wrigley Doublemint was only barely heard through the ever present low spark of the high heeled boys. At least that's how it used to be. In 1991. It wasn't cool anymore, ever since he waited in line at White Drug for the first copy of Use Your Illusion I and later II. The double release was more than highly touted, and he had $35 plus some change that was dedicated to insuring that the album made it high into the charts, just as it had been promised by Rolling Stone, Phlegm Wad, Fangoria, Reader's Digest, and other overly important publications. Ironically his convictions, which were worn on his jean jacket by way of permanent patch, were his downfall. Release dates, as he remembered them in that day, were anything but certain, and he thus was forced to wait in the arcade everyday until 2 pm when the majority of major shipments arrived. Clarice, the thirty-something mother of 2 and steady-handed front desk clerk lacked the necessary skills to help him, and, in fact, usually greatly resented his presence, style, and related charisma. She once told him that the album had just arrived, but indeed the copies had all been reserved for the "die hards." He took this hard, and fought back anger, and then tears. It was second only in emotional spirit to his recent break up. Eventually the day did come, and he only knew so because he had obtained some inside information from Bryce Murthman, local box lifter. Wake up, eat at Hardees', listen to Paradise City (started at 7:46:00, end at 7:52:45), arrive at back door of White Drug and wait. Wait is right. That's what he did. Right up until several local ass faces with long pony tails and brass knuckles arrived at 10:14 and smashed him into wonder lust and deletion. Dust kicks, skull cranks and delicious but basic facial bone brim stones were employed with success. The patch was ripped away with little effort, making its permanence fade into a distant parabolic thought. It was the preamble to his existence... formerly. The dudes were Def Leppard fans, and were high on the pure sounds of Hysteria, which had just been released. Clarice laughed and smoked at him.

22) Another day another dollar. Today, however, lacked its usual grayness for the first time since 1993, the last time promises were made to him. That year was green and lush, and smelled of day lillies and aquifers. He was young, strong, and generally appealing. Now it was different. He woke up daily to the sound of a cheap alarm and slept in his jeans. He woke up and ate dry coffee and shook uncontrollably. Only this day, he knew things would be different. He would step back to a former claim of self-worth, and kick start his outlook. He got in his penny loafers and drove to Best Buy that morning of November 24th, 2008, a day of reckoning for many as it were. 14 songs and and 16 years later, the voice of god would speak. January 1st 2000, as we all know, was to be the second coming, the end times, revelations. But he knew this was the real thing. He was third in a not so highly contested line to win his prize ($US 12.99). He played it all the way home and transferred it to his MP3 player. It was a pretty good album he figured (just between us, part of his calculation was based on his denial of any disappointment, which, after so many years could easily take the last breath of a man). He played it for 3 days straight and fell into a new life of awesomeness and power. He never lost again.

23) A smashing of high proportions always caused high amplitude waves in the suburbs. Normally serene and calm waters were highly noticeable to the local lords when waves began to take away precious beach sand. Stacey Neurbenson knew just how it worked too. Slowly but surely he eroded away every last grain of the shit, mostly by way of high speed pressure assault in combination with a common yard rake. At the end of the summer, his task complete, he made plans to get the fuck out of town and work at a city-sized factory in upstate. He built a tent in his backyard to stake out a route on some old maps and to count his chickens. The plan was keen on high risk, but neglected to take into account highly cherished items that might come into full view. He waited too long into the fall of the year 2008 and ended up purchasing the new Guns 'n Roses album on speculation. He'd not heard of them much, naturally and honestly, due to his age. Through the purchase of a sparkling back catalogue, the impending sound of the Nightrain and Mr. Brownstone not leaving him alone caused him to live with his mom and dad for the rest of his life. His dreams of worldwide communism were crushed and he was forced to forever more live within the confines of widescale and corrupt democracy, driven by venture capitalists and warhawks.