Let’s date aged whine from this borrowed prehistory map drafted before the days of pets and stomping - or maybe right around the time of stomping - when bipeds were thrilled to be alive, using simple everyday materials to prove it. 5 hours, or fifty trillion years, of fun and pests. Five million years of pissing off the promoter; boo-hoo, bartender wants a tip (better luck next time, bartender - music is older than service - music accompanied outings in the open air and in caves, along with rocks and rough experiments with fire and spinning bowties). Let’s pull up that one map that tracks the receding hairline of an overwhelmed sound guy paying off the interest on his mic set case while pulling out hair.
It’ll only take a minute; that, and fifty cents rolled down the throat of Steeplechase Face, if you can spare fifty cents, you cheapskate. Heartily, during the delights of plight and pillage, the audience laughs, wrangled. Blind snake in plastic inbox composes, entirely, the list of things to do. It’s only 2.4 million years old at this point. We have the records to prove it.
More about: Laurie Tompkins
