Fenriz says go darkthroning, but careful with that bridge for sale, Eugene.
'twas rainy, 'twas windy, 'twas shipwreck-kissed Whitby, & here I
WOTAN SMASH
Tomorrow, orange you glad to see me?
I know life's a bummer baby, but that's got precious little to do with me
Posted by Randal Graves at 6:54 AM
Labels: ansel's spinning corpse, fenriz says, narcissism, police state, the internets, the side effects of slacking
16 comments:
That dude in the first picture looks just like a my youngest brother's best friend. His name is "Link" and yes we call him the "Missing Link" but the redneck is laughing all the way to the bank.
The guy opened up a oil and lube place back in the late 90's and eventually built his empire to a collection of seven such places in the Pickens county area of South Carolina.
One of the national chains bought his business and he now has more money than he knows what to do with while still living in his double wide trailer.
He throws great parties, so great I barely remember the ones I attend.
BB, those are the best kind of parties.
R.G., that bus was a D.C. Metrobus. (I was in town briefly to visit my dad.) I used to take them back in High School (3, to get downtown and back), but they sure didn't look like that back in the '70s. (Thus tying my comment to your first pick.)
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Or pic.
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Clopping around the stacks in his size 7 K Mart blue light specials I see.
BB, given that this dude's not any of those things shows one can never judge a book, etceteroony. Now, how can I take financial advantage of the impending apocalypse in a way that won't require me to abandon the laziness that's served me so well?
if, oh, I miss the old Browns-esque color scheming of 70s Wheelie Busing, & the 75 cents price tag.
demeur, size twelve blue light specials, dammit.
Graves, you swine!
You know what they say about men with small feet?
Small... shoes.
Napolean much?
Regards,
Tengrain
Don't look at me, look at the couple of would-be closet emperors masquerading as commentarians, ahem, & lern to spel.
That second photo was taken by Paul Bunyan as he looked down on the forest. He's so tall, the forest looks like he's standing on a rug.
'Brazil' remains one of my all time favorite movies. It's kind of like Kafka's 'The Castle' set to music.
tom, where's his axe for choppin' heads?
susan, dammit, it's been way too long since I watched that. What a fantastically nuts flick, no?
I think these commenters need more prog rock itelligence. Also, that picture of Fenriz rules.
As if they could ever hope to understand the intricacies of a twenty-minute Yes track, that's why they're not in the Rock Hall.
I REFUSE TO ENTER THE DOORS OF THE ROCK HALL UNTIL DARKTHRONE IS INDUCTED!!! WHY DOESN'T JAN WENNER UNDERSTAND???
Shoes perfect for padding all over the libraries. It wouldn't do to be click clacking or galumphing, I suppose.
What do you expect from a man busy counting money instead of hiking like a metal punk in the shadow of the horns!
Another reason I got rid of my stripper shoes.
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