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Chris Burns

I was relieved when the Sunglasses were terminated. I was glad to finally rid myself of the burden of success and the pressures of fame. Any semblance of a normal life had been ruined by rabid fans and the heartless paparazzi. I stayed in, drew the curtains, collected the royalty cheques, shot a smorgasbord of drugs, and watched the old videos on 14 large screen televisions. After a few months, however, the videos stopped running, the royalty cheques stopped flowing, and the fans and paparazzi no longer seemed to care. I found myself drunkenly stumbling into the old haunts we used to play, slurring "Don't you people know who I am?" and warbling whatever lyrics to "My Cat Got Run Over by a Bus" I could remember.

I was nineteen and already a has-been. I was depressed and out of control. I checked myself into the Betty Ford Clinic where I met a Russian figure skating coach who took me under her wing. For several years, I trained and skated in a number of low level competitions, gearing up towards finally making it to the Olympics. I never achieved this goal, however. The lifestyle simply burned me out; all that jet lag and performance enhancing drugs had taken its toll and I found myself, once again, in detox.

It was there that I met the Reverend Elvis Saunders. He is the man responsible for turning my life around and teaching me that rock'n'roll and athletics are the Devil's workshops. I learned that being a spectator of such activities is equally sinful as participating. In fact, even reading about these subjects is high risk behavior. Therefore, I urge you to get off of this site, right now, or BURN IN HELL!!

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