driftwood shreddin' 12th or 13th century style

as per usual folklife serves very little function other for teenagers to smoke dope in public and give women their much needed fix of crappy handicrafts. however, for those brave men out there would have, if not for the cursed luck of being born in the here-and-now, explored, mapped, and ultimately dominated the world there is the ancient chinese art of driftwood shreddin'. The old fellow sat behind what looks exactly like the sweet as drift wood thing in Hero where they all be fighting in teh rain at the chess yard or whatever. During the warm up the old codger totally shredded. Volvo and I received erections from the display of masculinity while it is suspected that Drain supressed his since Way-To-Big-Of-A-Truck was there and he surely would have crushed her beneath his pulsing veiny might.

Also, juggling is always rad as long as they are juggling and not doing dumb stuff like trying to all showmanship ala 1875 Wild Wild West (wiki, wiki).

In conclusion - there were absolutely no babes there. Total sausage fest since ugly chicks don't count.

Ixnay on the Unatay

Why must Subway(tm) bookend their otherwise lovely workweek $3 specials with soggy meatballs and insipid tunafisk? Above shenanigans set me back an extra 200 Swedish fish for the privilege of eating something that doesn’t possess odors akin to the dysfunctional mini-fridge chock full of mold-ripened, rat-digested pork product left for two months to its own devices on a back patio of yore. Shit took three sets of rubber gloves and a quart of bleach to half-way disinfect.

Anathallo + Ghosts & Liars (Atlas clothing)

Summary: First good show at Atlas? Ghost & Liars were mayonnaise, but Anathallo brought on the roast beef (NY style)! Neither are great names for ones genital region.

Cost: 9 monies (see: cash, moolah, bread, rich beans, cheddar, jam jam, bones, grip, paper, etc)

You enter the dark cave, in the middle of the wild forest, dressed in your best chain mail, bastard sword, and a trusty torch in hand. The air is cool on your cheek. In front of your is a large, rusted iron door, with a sign, written in the common merchant language, which says "9 GOLD DRAGONS TO PASS". Next to it is a scale.

-- if you put 9 gold dragons in the scale, continue with this review --

The scale creeks downwards, almost touching the floor, with a POOF of magic steam, the dragons disappear and the door swings suddenly open. You find yourself magically drawn inwards, deeper into the cave. You think you can see lights up ahead and the drip of water coming from somewhere. You loosen your bastard sword in its sheath behind your back and continue forward. As you round the first corner of the cave, you are surprised by Ghost & Liars (the better members from previous band Some By Sea, plus two random sailors, apparently, both sprouting impressive facial hair 1 + 2 ) who play what can only be described as a Some By Sea-lite set. "All these actors and actresses" + clapping.

-OF NOTE- all singing in my reviews will be set apart in a sort of fuchsia, unless it's sweet. Then it will be in red. --

They magically disappear and you left confused.

-- if you wish to draw your bastard sword and continue on deeper into the cave, keep reading this review --

As you glance behind you, you notice that your footsteps are slowly disappearing into the growing darkness behind you, swallowed up by its many inky fingers. You grip your sword tighter and you shift your chain mail. In front of you, the lights and sounds of water are getting brighter and louder. The tunnel, however, is getting smaller and smaller. You squeeze around a tight corner and sudden come face to trunk with a giant, stone oak tree, in the front of a huge cavern. Its stone branches seem to quiver as you step into the room and beneath the echoes of your footsteps, you think you can hear your name being called.

-- If you approach the stone tree, continue to read this review --

You hesitate for a moment and then approach the giant oak tree. There seems be an enscription on its great trunk. You move a little closer and can barely make out the words "Anathallo". Suddenly the ground shifts under your feet. You fall to your knees, as large, stone roots break through the stone ground and wrap themselves around your legs and arms. You are unable to move and must stare in horror as, from the top of the stone oak tree, eight brightly colored acorns begin to roll and bounce towards your trapped body. Their every bounce sends a bass note pounding through your guts. and as they gain speed, they seem to emit a high, harmonized pitch (something around a high C). All eight acorns suddenly come to a stop, directly in front of your watering eyes. They regard each other and yourself, because bring out their tiny acorn guitars, trumpets, keyboards and percussion equipment. They bounce and squeal, shake and twist, then harmonize. Such sweet harmonizing! You think you can't stand it! Your eyes are watering, your ears feel tight against your brain. You can't feel your legs or your body. The acorns charm you with witty banter about their studio time and how at home you make them feel, playing in front of you in this dark cave. They seem to play forever, but you have no concept of how much time has passed. Sudden, they bounce a few last bass notes, and magically disappear! All of a sudden you find yourself on your back, outside the cave. Shaking the sleep out of your eyes, you stand and look around. The acorns and the cave are nowhere to be seen.

immortal barbarian killed by vultures final score:

8.5 raped and burned villages out of 10

Bosch : totally hooked it up

totally bought one got one free but prior to that...

some cracked out fake-and-bake peroxide blonde was tweakin' cause her 19xx XYZ had shit for breaks like the rotors wore thru. this caused a yelling match at the parts counter that neither her less cracked out girlfriend or early retirement major league boyfriend could calm. she insisted on slappin' on some pads, but not that shizzle is suicide. and " I NEED THAT CAR " ; borrowing wouldn't do, refused to have it towed, declined the house call mechanic (i can't have people at my house! this phrase always means "i'm cooking some serious shit and don't need folk knowing i make w/ the drugs even though you can totally tell by my behavior"). the tirade* never really ended, just went to the parking lot, into some poor bastards car and surely proceeded for another three hours. minimum.

cashier tried to charge me full price for amorall products despite my coupon. wasn't having that. he caved and admitted to charging people full price all day.

such is ballard

(outro, play notorious b.i.g.'s "everyday struggle" and sip some tanqueray)

*http://dictionary.reference.com/search?r=2&q=tirade