my own private idaho via britannia

or not. with a vacation slowly but surely looking
not happening ish, in the words of the good doctor
"I felt it was time for a gross reappraisal"
So as a marker on any ocean, this is more of a
a little footnote for where I am at. Which is the hell
I don't know. I am going to take a step
back, it might be the end of this project?
Some more songs possibly on the way which
upon listening to should magnify the issue of so where
am I going with this?
 Then there's my headspace. Between my two ears and behind
one eye open to a mirror it reads like this for lack of a better description.
 (My apologies to Converge.)
So Indeed.
Until If and when we rise again.

March on

 Hey I've been kind of busy so I outsourced my updates to a better skilled writer.
Quit your whining you get a brand new song to listen to then disregards, so cheers

 
-This week sees another release of a song by the so called musical collective end
credit blighters. It consists of one man which digs up once again the age old argument
of whether or not a one man orgy is just masturbation. This has dogged philosophers
and the lonely for as long as man has no longer been afraid of being wiped off the
food chain by much more agile and efficient creatures. So if you listen you
are contributing to this never ending uroborus circle jerk. For someone with no
sense of humor dan is a mediocre song writer and this latest collection of notes
and rhythm displays an almost peace to violent to peace to violent that borders somewhere
between pretentious and clever. It's in the same neighborhood as ironic and witty but
they refuse to be seen with the likes of those two. I digress. You brought this
on yourself in fact having me write the introduction for this song may just be
a means for him to avoid having to preface what this song is about.
That dirty pig fucker. So bottom's up to the thinning lines between how our artists
and those in charge operate.
-Oswald.

anyways new fancy layout over at the bandcamp and more coffeehousery until I bamboozle
some respectable music club into giving me a chance.

IT LIVES.

But we may still kill it?

More ass kicking less bubble gum chewing sort of song up at the bandcamp.
Have a listen. Unless you thought Inception was the pinnacle of western
storytelling, in which case HERE's a lesson on metaphors and plot,
but you have to wait until the end to learn it.




More ways to experience this audio disaster, other than
uncomfortably by yourself near a computer, coming to get you soon.

Evil laughter.

disaster leads a swift and terrible vegeance

So what happened? Did the jackass responsible for this blog die? Better opportunity? Good Fortune?
Fucking maybe and double wide double no. Well you made the effort to get here so I won't let you leave empty handed. (a) Hope is a luxury in these parts but despite setbacks and the living condition challenges there a quite few songs on the way, t-shirts and shows now with a better fool proof set up.

(b)BUT for those of us who are realistically inclined and know the guarantees gutters hold and back alleys pipe dreams lead to; no promises as to when I will be back on my feet or even if I will be able to sing that soon following or at all. So stay tuned and please have a drink for me because I can't for sometime. Big sad faces y'all.