Oh, internet. I am lightly sunburned from spending the weekend in a park with my friends listening to a cross-section of the past 20 years of Sub Pop's releases. If you could find me a time machine, I would like to travel back and tell little late grunge-era samantha that she will one day see the goddamn Vaselines and Green River, live and in person and from not too far away. She will probably die from anticipation, which might cause some sort of unfortunate Back to the Future-ish rift in the universe, but just before she died she'd be stoked.
The Vaselines. Seriously.
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