supported by 7 fans who also own “Feeding Illness To Society 7"”
Tuesday morning. Having arrived at Misery Dispensation, I am belted in. For a time, there is darkness, only darkness. And then the sound. The sound oozes forth, sweet hair-laced clogs of it. They fall like lotion upon the flaming anus of my brain.
In joy there is music. In sorrow, the Shoes. contendo