cool and the new-bin cassette cubby here at the station, assuming it's some indication of the overall, is overflowing. (Deathbed confessions whispered weakly to the very last loved one: "Berger was right!")
Look, it's not a bigadda deal, I will survive, but this ongoing obsession/fixation with music-cassettes would not hold up against a jury of its peers. (Malveilance already being cued up for next week; it will survive as well.) LIFE—ONE LONG, PRE-DEATH NAP. (Quick cutaway—Josef Stalin and one of Der Fŭhrer's underlings—supremely AWKWARD OkCupid date. At least Stalin could EAT, his menu choices not limited by the need to avoid sub-master-race Samosas.) I TELL YA....I'm just a dumb guy who knows nothing really. I'm going to do an all-classical music show; I'll amass a collection of miniature busts of all the great composers, and spread them out on the console every week, a pinch of snuff, and I'm OFF....)
Quickly now, what happens when Kevin Hart has to look at the same thing at the same time, with BOTH eyes? The butterfly's wings gently tap one another as they finish and then begin to slide out of their arc, this all happens too quickly to really observe, but soon questions like "Where did you put the ____?" and "Are you bored?" will all suddenly NOT MATTER FUCK ALL.
Fer Chrissakes, just realizing that this Cacasonic / Malveilance split was taped over a decades-old classical-music cassette. Ah, the memories! Vanilla Bean: "I really liked your demo; it held up well, as a blank." Tabs were popped, but there was always Scotch tape handy, Lloyd knows how many X! This observation has turned into a rant (did you notice?), and in lieu of EVERYTHING, always remember to SHOP PRISON TATT (new, full-length LPs by Bob Bellerue and NRIII now available!) Cinderella was named for cinders—that's the fairy tale, not the hair-metal band.
I would fuck the daylights out of Felicia Day, her impossibly long legs draped on my shoulders, her ankles eventually crossed behind my neck. Cosplay, "aahsplay," I splay, and "Adrienne, I always knew you was pretty witch your glasses OFF."
My plate is FULL, and there's just not enough room for drunks, not even the "doesn't need to drink every day, but their personality changes when they do" kind. "Am I just a hypocrite, another piece of your bullshit?" ...And what would that LOOK LIKE, exactly? A PIECE of bullshit? A section, a sample. Terry Hall and Jane Wiedlin, it's always been really hard to picture. He always seemed "a-list Gay" to me. But again, "what do I know, what do I know, what do I know, what do I KNOW?" They got at least one good song out of it.
I'm liking these downloads, from brain, to fingers, to binary, to the FIVE PEOPLE THAT WILL ACTUALLY READ THIS. Sorry, Dad. Look away, Dixieland.
Shine on, shine on Brocken Moon. It was too cloudy to see the Blood Moon the other night, at least here in NJ it was. I hope SOMEONE sacrificed a goat, and meant it.
Our weekly screen capture, this time from Rob Zombie's The Lords of Salem, will take you to the archived audio, playlist and comments for this week's horrorcast™... It's a long way from Carlstadt, NJ, where I once proofread on the night shift; neither good, nor terribly bad, but while you're waiting please consider our sponsors' wonderful products. (Throws down mic, it "thumps" on the stage floor, nods affirmatively and walks off. ...)