That's Just The Booze Talking

Friday, May 19, 2006

Rendezvous With Anus



Yeah, yeah: We suck. We update the blog with the same frequency with which we bleach our pubes. Boo hoo. Listen, people––or person; we’re guessing the readership is probably down quite a bit, given the whole deadbeat dad routine we’ve been playing on all you fine folks, who, no shit, we totally think of as our children––we’re busy. It’s not you, it’s us. Your ass does not look huge in those pants. We’d like to still be friends.

Whatever. Here’s a Turbonegro song to set things straight. Think of it as the hastily grabbed bouquet of flowers you buy for $5 from the bodega in order to make nice the day after the little missus walks in on you making sweet love to a Pringles can stuffed full of hamburger meat**.


**Add a raw egg. It will totally feel like prom night. Later, after you’ve rinsed off, you can make the world’s most shame-filled meatloaf. Like, literally.