Memories are a lot like books – they can get dusty. They’re also a lot like raisins – they’re wrinkly (and purple?) and cats – they always land on their feet. Mix in years of voluntary and involuntary brain damage and somehow you mash two things together that
A) Have completely different styles of conveying a message (even thought the message is the same).
B) Have completely different style of presentation – one’s traditional animation and one’s… what the hell is that style? Can we just call it 90’s style?
and C) Were made eight years apart from each other (1983 and 1991 to be exact… either way, my breakfast still probably consisted of Cocoa Krispies.)
For some reason, I thought this guy…
…sang this song…
Guess I better stop drinking so much Zima… I’m so “malternative” it’s hard to stop.