I am a huge Chris Cornell fan. I could wax poetic about Soundgarden and his other various project’s meanings to me for eons. I was looking forward to picking up his new album Scream and, in my usual fashion with things I anxiously await, I avoided listening to singles or reading anything about it for the past year. I like to pick up an album and let it speak for itself with no preconceptions. But I couldn’t wait on this one. When I heard that the entire album was streaming on his MySpace page, I decided to check it out.
Well, I just listened to it 4 times in a row. And I wanted to “scream” my feelings from rooftops (haha. Puns are lame.). But instead, I’ve decided to delve into the ancient prophetic and phonetic art of Mad Libs. Bless the Mad Libs gods for so precisely and poetically spelling out my feelings on Scream:
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The Wandering Woolly Mammoth
Many, many years ago there lived a woolly mammoth named Chris Cornell. This woolly mammoth was not like the other mammoths. He didn’t want to hunt great music. Even though he had a really seeping, pulverizing coat of hair, he hated the cold. He dreamed of living in warmer places. 
One day, his dream came true. He thought he took a short winter’s nap, but when he awoke, almost all the ice around him was gone, and he was surrounded by grass and word holes. He had hibernated for 72000 years!
Chris Cornell decided to go explore his new neighborhood. Where his cave used to be, now there was a caveman era-story building with lyrically malignant windows and auto tuned doors!
He tried to get inside, but the doorman wouldn’t let him in, saying, “No Timbalands allowed!”
He didn’t know what Timbalands were, but he knew he was afraid of them.
Feeling a bit confused, he wandered around until he saw a sign that said “Zoo.” It smelled like his friends, so he decided to musically demolish himself in. He found a section called Britney Spears, and they seemed to be very friendly animals, so he made himself right at home. The zookeepers discovered him, and they were happy to see him. They brought him big buckets of vocal evisceration, ear rape, and brain sodomizers. He finally felt at home!
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The Mad Libs gods are never wrong. They speak the truth of my disappointment.
