Tuesday, October 11, 2011


Just what the world needs in my hugely fucking pompous opinion. Too much of everything going on and too little of anything going on.

The latter could actually be a good thing for a change. It's been a hectic couple of weeks. The flames have met in the middle of the candle and now ALL the ladies are looking at me funny. And not because of yesterday's post either...

So it's traditional for me to harp on about my domestic prowess on the Tuesday following the Monday when it's my turn to cook for the band. (Hey, at least we aren't starving musicians...) A tradition I have every intention of keeping alive. Last night I made THE raddest food ever. It involved white sauce and I made the dish up on the spot. It was an incredible success and we're scheduling a ceremony for the weekend in which my Mother not only unties me from her apron strings, but hands over the entire apron to much fanfare and a 21 gun salute. We are contemplating releasing some doves, but with my acute ornophobia, we may have to cover everything in plastic. I am Martha!

I need eighties style sewn-in shoulder pads now...

Anyway, after dinner we actually DID make some music. As usual we couldn't remember what we did last week and Rose Thorn (who apparently has green blood) had forgotten the footage at home, so we were forced to resort to actually creating something new. It was glorious. It was grandiose. It was so amazing and awe-inspiring, it will probably have a working title like 'Wyrmberg' bestowed upon it. See, I do read...

For those of you that still require a peek into what it is we do on a Monday evening, besides sit around and brush each other's hair while someone brews something in their cauldron, and get artistically motherless, here is a brief definition of our music.

DJOOM = a musical subgenre referring to the combination of DOOM (slow, heavy, depressing and sometimes poetic) and DJENT (or math -metal, combining atonal discordant progressions and harmonies and irregular time signatures).

This is the best way I can describe it although I am sure some pencil dick will have a more eloquent version of either. Anyway, the bottom line is that we enjoy it and one day when we're all a million years old you may even get to hear it.

In other news, pretty much fuck all is happening. A lot of it. Too much and too little.

Perhaps Robert could put things into perspective...
Book 7 : Chapter 8 : Verse 7 - 11

Oh yes, and if I get one more fucking internet petition sent to me - I don't care how good the cause is or how well intentioned the people behind it are, my nipples will explode. In full Monty Python style, whilst I skip away toward the horizon, with only a bobby helmet on my flailing tongue depressor, singing 'God save King Julius' like so many slain bagpipes.

NGDG: "I will prise the caps lock keys from a thousand keyboards, put them in an empty coffee tin with gunpowder and semtex and send it to freakshow with a note that says 'Don't smoke while insane' and she, being sooo audacious and otherwise, will immediately light up a cigarette in defiance, saying 'Ha!' But only one of us will be there to append an additional 'ha' to the proverbial last laugh."

And on that rather contrived conclusion (according to the Rules), I bid you adieu for another day. Til tomorrow then, when I shall once again abuse you with my absurdities. No, not the one under the bobby helmet. His.name.is.Truncheon...

Spread The Love. Softly. Killing It. With A Djoom Song.

No comments:

Post a Comment