Lord Daylan

He's a review moderator for Rotten Tomatoes.

He sits down and removes his shoe and sock, then opens his desk drawer. It is empty, save for a small bag of thumbtacks. He drops one into his sock and then puts it and his shoe back on. He slides out his keyboard, hisses through his teeth, and presses his toe down. He has the worst job in the world

A few minutes later, he comes to as the elevator shudders to a stop on the ground floor. He sighs deeply and presses the button. Moments later, the doors open and he steps into a room full of cubicles. None are occupied, as he is always a few minutes early. He doesn't want his routine to be exposed.

Somewhere in Brisbane, California, a tired man holds his keycard against a door lock and waits for the beep. He can barely push the door open. He steps into the elevator and selects his floor. He doesn't get much sleep these days, so he micronaps and misses his stop.

P.S. I've been saying "AM-rich" instead of "AM-rick" all these years. Oops.

Yeah, it's a crapshoot.

I got you.

web.archive.org/web/20190203...

My little personal review popped up in my fashbook memories. Absolute banger from start to finish. What a strange accomplishment to make an album that is so wistful, isolating, and exciting at the same time.

How does this compare to the despecialized releases?