We that are true lovers, run into strange crappers…
That’s right, crappers.
Tonight I was domestic with the cleaning up and the making of roast beast in a big pot with po-ta-toes. The world is lonesome and… tender.
BTW – Skulls eating horns in the 11th dimension of swirly, psychedelic doom… with amps and guitars and stuff. If only you knew how many incarnations this thing went through:
Wow! I don’t really understand the words, but the art work is gorgeous. It must have taken a really long time. Like the new layout too. Keep me posted.
A little late comin’ but -> Thanks =)