Can you imagine being some 12 or 13 year old fuck up, strolling into your local park late at night to burn a spliff or maybe get some fingerbang/handjob action on with your equally as newbie punk chick and stumbling on Lux Interior rocking the Speedo's with a shiny vinyl (yeah, I don't buy it's leather, no matter what the song is called. That shit is a gazillion shades shinier than Guitar Wolf's)jacket? It's nice to remember a time when Ivy didn't have wicked vericose veins pulsating from her over made-up skin. Do you remember that? Peperidge Farms does.