Everything that was known and loved just a few weeks ago in the House of Pain is quickly being extinguished by non-humans and psychopaths into
Month: April 2020
Saturday Jazz
“It bugs me when people try to analyze jazz as an intellectual theorem. It’s not. It’s feeling.” – Bill Evans *** Bill Evans – “My
Fear – ‘The Days of Our Virus’
The spirit of the tank runs deep in the factory of sadness, with neighbors berating other neighbors for not bending over and taking a stinky
Six Feet Under
As the demon diva’s gather together each day to strut their peacock feathers, proclaiming new shitf**kery for the unwashed to clutch their pearls over, don
Cornholio Musings – ‘The Days of Our Virus’
One step into that festering hell-hole of insanity that we find ourselves living in – you will feel the stench of foulness from the demons
The Tenth Circle of Hell – ‘The Days of Our Virus’
Each day in the factory of sadness, psychopath’s and non-humans strut their feathers that display more f**kery for you, me and all other of the
Dispatches from the Asylum 