Bunch of dudes competing to see who has the smallest boner.
Fluffing the pillows makes the windows rattle.
I wish I were exaggerating.
Some improvisation by prepared pianist, Hauschka.
“He wrests disruptive sounds from the instrument’s 88 keys by outfitting the strings or mallets with objects such as ping-pong balls, aluminum foil and leather.”
Nice music you’ve got there. Have fun rotting in Hell, you hate-mongering son of a bitch.
The SAT is a scam. It has been around for 50 years. It has never measured anything. And it continues to measure nothing. And the whole game is that everybody who does well on it, is so delighted by their good fortune that they don’t want to attack it. And they are the people in charge. Because of course, the way you get to be in charge is by having high test scores. So it’s this terrific kind of rolling scam that every so often, somebody sort of looks and says—well, you know, does it measure intelligence? No. Does it predict college grades? No. Does it tell you how much you learned in high school? No. Does it predict life happiness or life success in any measure? No. It’s measuring nothing.
Having just recently moved back into a house with a TV, I just watched the first episode of the eleventh Doctor and am now hopelessly in love with Karen Gillan.
Everything costs three bucks except for old-ass shit shows like Mind of Mencia.
I have to do this someday.
What the fuck is wrong with this
Y’all want to hear stank? Ok, here’s the stank.
Make sure you’ve got speakers with bass in ‘em. You’ll need it.
Reggie Washington on bass.
Most of the time when I track “bass” or “bassist” tags I start out wanting to see cool basses and hear nice grooves, and I always end up furious beyond words at all the emo pre-teens licking their Squiers with DR neons.