|
It’s raining outside. Noah’s Ark day thirty-eight level rain too, not some whimpy droplets of condensation. I’d even call it a deluge. The wind is punish-fucking my bushes, maybe even crying Mary, and the thunder and lightening are more boisterous than twenty world class drag queens ... read more |
 |
|
|
|
Remember the good old days? That ancient period of blissful monikers where we rocked out to pseudonyms like Styx, Twisted Sister, and Poison. Wasn’t that fun? Call me crazy, but I actually, enjoyed band names that couldn’t be easily converted into Haikus. Free: now, that was an alias. One syllable. That’s all they needed. But nowadays, they’d be jailed for excessive clarity, taken in for too thorough an abridgement ... read more |
|
|
|
|
|
