Welcome to the new normal, followers, failures and philanderers (who I love just the way you are). Horses in the pool, unspoken alienation and allegiance, patricide, matricide, and everything in between. It sure is a lot to keep track of, yeah? It’s time to blow this popsicle stand, so bring Maris a machine gun, and turn Warble loose, because they’re all out of bubblegum, and eat pieces of crap like these for breakfast!
The wasteland stretches open before Maris and Warble, pointing them toward suggestive rock formations, forgotten glories, and last chances on the horizon. Kai keeps...
Let’s ride on through the desert on a horse with two names, all my succulent sandworms of radioland. There’s always some new dysentery to...
Gunfire cuts through the gals, and makes a big mess of a soft summer night. There's no rest for the wicked, and no respite...