Mr. Manic is the culmination of massive amounts of self-manipulation, self-pity, and self-loathing, with a sprinkle of experimental (but mostly recreational) hallucinogenic brown nosing. The nightmare started upon the realization that those closest to me had all attended The Jacksons' Victory Tour 84, and left me alone (mainly to be babysat, one year olds can't attend loud, crowded concerts) to wallow in my shame. From then on, it was an uncontrollable downward spiral into the mutant mind fuck that stands before you today...
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