At the height of the dopey youthful experience, I had hundreds of rare European import CDs piled up and displayed by some sort of giant lava lamp rack. They're all gone now, save for a few jewel cases that are sitting in a burlap sack in my bathroom for some reason. I sold them so I could buy weed. I don't miss them, either.
flickr/ Brian Teutsch It's over.
Because I hate CDs.