Demonic cinder block-flinging semiautomatic not-a-dog will comfort you in your dreams.
They’re awfully polite, considering. “It’s an actual mockery of what it was. There’s actually a sense of… rhythm? That goes along with it?” “That’s West 4th Street Dancing.” “STOP.”
This excels even by my high standards for internet-distributed vegetable-based music. I wonder if you went on tour, could you rely on local supplies, or would you have to bring your own? Could you freeze and then thaw some of the instruments? There’s no way eggplant, for example, would hold up to that kind of treatment. You hit town, your drummer disappears to score, and the carrots go soft…
Via Dangerous Minds
Good morning, everyone. Here’s a parrot singing Russian songs in the shower. Have a good one!