Shittering grapplehooks

[_skold]

I was almost positive that someone was squealing their tires over a cat, but it turned out to be the end of Bee by the Sugarcubes. Good morning, motherfuckers

Comments

[kembra_pfahler]

Hey! Whatd'ya know? I think I can fill today's requests for you. I'll have to look for the mallet, but I'm sure I've used one on stage before. (I've used the entire contents of my apartment, my parents basement, and the local Ben Franklin craft store on stage before.)

In exchange, I get some Skold singing*. Is there such thing as an ear-gasm?

*Prior to killing, hot linkers will be tortured by having their eyebrows plucked with tweezers and their bellybuttons poked with a spork.

[_skold]

Aw, pictures of the mallet and knee socks on stage. I'm verklempt.

I have eargasms all the time. The latest one was about 6 hours ago when you said that whole nurse thing... and rendered me incapable of speech.

Bellybuttons poked with a spork? Just another day in the life, surely.

[camilloxmoreno]

legs. toes. ass. looks good to me.

[_skold]

Makes up for the rest of it.

[taime_downe]

Not only would I cheer, I would PAY to see you break Ray's glasses. You should be the new lead singer of Pussycat when I'm gone, which at this rate should be by next Xmas.

Ah, the melancholy Swede. That's the play where in the end everyone dies from bad herring, isn't it?

[_skold]

Just fund my cigarette and absinthe habits and I'll see about busting the wire frames. Oh man, cue cover of Dead By Christmas. \m/

That's the one. It's not my favorite libretto though. That one is The Dry Cured American. The songs in Act II burn like the sun. *clutches chest*

[john_5_lowery]

Act now, Ham-let.

[_skold]

This is where I tongue kiss the skull a la Bowie.

[dita_vonteese]

Great, now I have to put on a sarong and spend the afternoon making silly hand motions.

Haaaappy talky talky.

[_skold]

Sarong? Less words, more pictures.