Don't know who Robert Smith is.
Feel sorry because you like his music, but really don't know why he's crying.
Remind him about that time you met at a gig in London in 1970 something.
Get mad at him for everything except Disintegration and Pornography.
Steal a piece of his hair. For research.
Hide in safety. This is not your jam.
Wait it out. This is nothing compared to that time the earth stood still in 1951.
Get mad because cannibals and birds are just not the right way for humanity to go.
Play the soundtrack to Cannibal Holocaust.
Live tweet the whole thing while trying to avoid getting eaten.
Night of the Living Dead
28 Days Later
The Walking Dead's a movie right?
None. They never depict zombies accurately.
Scooby Doo on Zombie Island
Don't care. You don't even know how to use that thing anyway.
Wish the curse of seven thousand lice upon them.
Embark on a long monologue concerning the Ouija board and its history.
Joke until they feel more comfortable giving it a try.
Tell a story about that time you prank called the Reaper.
You're afraid of the Wee-jee board too.
You draw their album covers. You love them. They are your children.
If you like their music.
Through social media.
Your local band left the area 25 years ago. You have no idea who's playing these days.
What local bands?
No. They suck.
Yes. I'm a calculus tutor for a technical death metal band.
Yeah. We suck.
Yes, but we don't fit under any category, despite what people keep labeling it.
We just reunited. It's like the good ol' days, only with beer guts and kids.
Yep. We never take ourselves seriously, it's more a parody of a band if anything.
Huh. No, why would I?
I don't know any of these pal.
Bring in the evidence. You know better than Wikipedia.
Switch to making inside jokes about the band. You know you're correct, but don't need to prove it.
Whatever. The date is the only real thing you know about the band anyway.
Pretend to agree with your friend. She knows more about this band anyway, she'll probably realize her mistake later.
Throw confetti into the air, write POSER all over your friend's forehead and cartwheel away. You love being right.
Show her pictures of you with the band before they even formed.
Laugh like it's the early 2000s and you've got no care in the world.
Encourage him to keep exploring his style and talk about the bands you liked when you were younger.
Question his sincerity. You're in pyjamas.
Note that Tripp pants are not, in fact, extinct.
It was long, tedious and boring.
Anyone who does not like it is unworthy.
I didn't read it.
Pretty eloquent for a PSA on STDs.
This is the tenth time I've read it, and it just keeps getting better.
My ol' mate Bram, I remember him...
Coffee and cigarettes.
Redbull and pizza.
Monster munch chips.
The same Doc Martens you were born in.
Canvas shoes. Leather isn't vegan and neither is chicken.
Socks, but the special Halloween kind with little ghost prints on them.
Basic black combat boots which you shine, take care of and kiss goodnight.
"You just condone all that you mean. Play time doesn't last forever."
"Lament repent oh mortal you. So sad. So sad."
"Dum dum dum dum dum - IT'S SHOWTIME! - Daaa da daaa da da daaa"
"I walk the line between good and evil."
"1980s was run by a person who's crazy like you. 1990s will be unkindly exactly like you."
"What is this song all about? Can't figure any lyrics out."