“Paul! Good god, man, it's been a while. Last I heard, you were wasting away in some piss-gutter on Minneapolis' north side, regaling the local liquor slobs with tales of 7th Street glory and Tommy Stinson's bitchin' hair parades. Hey, how about that solo career? Yeah, you blew it right from the start. Christ, dude, "Silver Naked Ladies"? *Suicaine Gratifaction??* What'd, you have an aneurysm? Ahh,”
