This howling horrid night finds your humble narrator in foul temperment, and uncharacteristically bereft of adjectives. All manner of equipment failure, human error, spiteful weather, and morose cabin fever have put unsightly dents in both the unflappable facade and the scarce supply of spirits. Perhaps this soul-flagellating winter shall never end.So be it.
Ha, another fave of mine AND another band that I was gonna post at some point. You're killing me here man! I was thinking of posting Tombs Of The Blind Drugged.
ReplyDeleteDo not let the snowbound ravings of a madman prevent the spread of blasphemous knowledge, not while the undead remain frozen just outside.
ReplyDeleteThe ice age will pass and new civilizations will be born, however futile.