I generally embark on a journey of self discovery and exploration before I write Last Supper. For this week’s column on Spints Alehouse, I hooked myself up to a bio-feedback machine and coaxed my subconscious into a state of pristine quietude. When my mind was completely still, I introduced the image of an octopus. The octopus was the key to unlocking this review.
Once my meditation had ended, I approached my computer like a somnambulist and the words simply poured from my fingers. The resulting review may be a bit difficult to read, but that’s because it was meant to be sung as a madrigal. Or read aloud by someone British:
Oh dear fuck.
That was something, all right.
I always wondered what Stewie Griffen would sound like all grown up. Now I know.
This reminds me of listening to A Christmas Carol.
Ah, sweet Rex Harrison!
w/Coleman laughing in the background no less…
i like eat octapus,
thank you for your share
http://www.mbt-shoe.us
Now do Paddington…NOW DO PADDINGTON!
Totally great! Must Twitter
Yes.