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What a boredom these minimal introspective reviews are, all the same and saying absolutely nothing except for a frankly misplaced literary narcissism.
Voto:
Interesting
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The good times of editors are over, but you can take it upon yourself to modify the review.
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Solitude. The privilege of gazing into a corner. Well done, your review that I prefer.
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Sunday. What to do? Well, shoving some dung forcefully into the ear canals would have had the same significance.
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It would be better not to write serial crap.
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I mean... once we had reviews like these. Or those by Hal, Kosmo, Fosca, and others. Today, I have to see on the homepage the serial minimalism filled with sentimental voids from buzzin or other assorted horrors that I don’t even want to mention. Obviously accompanied by resounding five-star ratings. Sorry, but the sadness of an old nostalgia-filled pain in the ass has risen uncontrollably.
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They are steeped in an intellectual emptiness. Insufferable. Instead, you are a thousand times better with the music reviews.
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Oh no, buzzin. Not always. We’re in debt and you also face public ridicule when you step in shit. It’s too easy to just move on; there are also damn votes to express the sacred displeasure for any uninspired, poorly thought-out, and very sterilely self-referential fart that crosses your mind.
Voto:
These people might be of interest. The mountain harms physical and mental health.