NOTE: Calling the Dump Your Data Vendor Hotline and visiting DumpYourDataVendor.com can result in switching to a much better B2B contact data partner, improved processes and pipeline, and overall total radness. Side effects of experiencing the hotline and site may include: Uncontrollable nostalgia for the days before social media ruined everything — you know, back when you rocked the O.G. "Mosaic" web browser and gabbed on IRC, and spent weeks during that one semester memorizing the Ezekiel 25:17 scene from Pulp Fiction, and getting your mind blown when you heard Dr. Dre's The Chronic for the first time, and then came Tupac and Biggie and Wu-Tang, and then there were those few months when you wanted to punch out your roommate because all they did was play that one stupid Blues Traveler CD on repeat, and droned on and on about how Let Her Cry and Mr. Jones would be remembered for generations to come, but when it came to guitar and drums, you were more of a Riot Grrrl kind of person, rocking out to Bikini Kill and Tribe 8 and Bratmobile and Babes In Toyland and L7, and dug what Fiona Apple, Liz Phair, and Tracy Chapman were up to too, and you were head over heels for shows like Bufy the Vampire Slayer and The X-Files because the truth was out there, and you had Melrose Place watch-parties with your friends where you knocked back Crystal Pepsi and Zima and Bacardi Breezers, and doggone it you had to tape episodes of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air because you worked till close at Blockbuster on Monday nights, but you discovered John Woo and Guillermo del Toro and John Singleton while working at Blockbuster so it all evened out I guess, and then there was that one time when you accidentally starved and killed your Tamogatchi which was a total bummer, but thanks to action movies, you knew what a "mimetic polyaloy" was, and, whoa, you knew Kung Fu too, and you knew that Taco Bell would eventually win the Fast Food Wars, and while you didn't have much love for New Kids on the Block, you'd defend the honor of the Backstreet Boys against NSYNC any day, and then Ghostface terrified you to the bone because yes, you did love scary movies, and seeing poor Drew Barrymore get wasted in the first reel was soul-crushing because you'd ben a fan ever since she played Gertie in E.T. and you'd even stuck with her through dubious career choices like Poison Ivy, and now here come the obligatory salutes to They Might Be Giants + Tiny Toons Adventures and insidious earworm TV commercial jingles (Whatcha gonna pick? Hot Pockets! and Pizza in the morning, pizza in the evening, pizza at suppertime.) and the mouth-scalding magma guts of Pizza Rolls, and then you were completely enraptured watching Tori Amos and Neil Gaiman pass love letters to each other in their songs and comics, and then, improbably, you got into swing music because of that crazy GAP commercial and that didn't last very long but hey at least you still know every word to Jump, Jive, an' Wail so let's pray that might come in handy someday, and then you read The Hot Zone and practically crapped your pants from overwhelming paranoia and fear because Ebola, and then Apple came out with the iMac and every damn thing in the world was made of colorful translucent plastic for a while, and you never told a soul but you really dug those NOW That's What I Call Music! CDs because wow what a value, and yep, they were right, Kriss Kross really did make you jump-jump and the Daddy Mac also made you jump-jump, and Jack Nicholson was right, too - you couldn't handle the truth — and you heard Prince's 1982 song 1999 pretty much for the entirety of the year 1999 which nearly drove you nuts because you'd heard enough of that song back in the '80s, and then you survived Y2K, and the next thing you know it's 30 years later and you're older and wiser and you're going on a nostalgia trip this very moment because you're reading a 700-word paragraph on the internet, and now the paragraph is over and, sadly, so is the trip.