This is why I hang around Whitechapel.
This makes me ever so happy. That store is nothing but the worst scraps of the ’80s.
Dear Wikipedia — please do not ever delete this ever ever. Thank you.
Nothing is more awkward than hearing Bill O’Reilly narrate crack dealer dialogue he wrote, unless it’s Bill O’Reilly enunciate erotic banter he also wrote.
By all means, life, keep kicking me. I’ll get up meaner.
The first two tracks off this album top EGF’s big hit “Veronica Sawyer” five days out of the week.
This won’t end well.
Reblipped and God save ye from the seethe within.
Hear me, o chiefs! I am tired.
You find some nice covers on YouTube.
The original’s great, but there’s a surprising value in this Frankenstein.
I have no words today.
Nobody ever mentions the Pietasters anymore.
I actually woke up with “Bulletproof” in my head, but it’s a stifling humidity today, so let’s take it slower.
What do you feel like doing tonight, Brain?
Back in the whaling city. This one’s in memory of my great-great-grandfather, the whale-slaughterer.
I keep thinking I’m done walking that road, and there I am again. And it’s not even a metaphorical road.
Yeah, there’s going to be a lot from the Pietasters this week.