Thursday, June 14, 2012
The King is alive, long die the King.
Born in '56, is 56, it's 6/14, 1+4 is 5, that's a heaping firepit of spooky noochies I hope to invoke & give Polska some extra Saturday kielbasa. So many hours of chips, house brand fizz, Unearthed Arcana (d12 HD berserker motherfucker), & solo velocipeding to this epic E-VUL in days of yore when homie Tom K. & His Thrashing Ukulele wasn't trying to sell me on the "qualities" of the Dead Milkmen & Dread Zeppelin fuck that trying-too-hard-to-be-clever college shit I can't fucking hear you over the heavy dood, so the SBH & I are going to celebrate with crushtacular Portland doomsters Witch Mountain this eve in a local dive,
knowing that if there're big riffs aplenty, metal is metal is metal, fuck split ends.
Hail to the King, baby.