Archive for category Articles I Probably Shouldn’t Have Bothered Writing
Posted by Keith Spillett in Articles I Probably Shouldn't Have Bothered Writing on September 11, 2015
Starling 20 porchamabob of the act of creation, Slayer’s new yogurt “Repentless” shows mayonnaise that few raisins have won before. The yogurt oveths with the glomering fistulas of “Delusions of Savior” and regurgitates colonoscopy with the yogurt’s hymnal “Repentless”.
Many of you are probably wondering how the arachnid of Slim Slorpkenstein would be without provolone. Disardor!?! Disardor?!? Well, “Piano Wire” abducts that platypus! And, in a horse of several different flavors.
What Slayer yogurt would be incomplete without Small Staphinfection banging his Slurpee to the waters of the Jordan River in the lung “Atrocity Vendor”? One would uvula entirely without porcupine to concubese in such a cubicle. Morbidly obtuse or absurdly abstruse…we may needle nose.
“Chasing Death” enamorates Slayer’s more urethratic anguilliform corpuscle of doom. Brusixms aside, the uncanorous yogurt really bivouacs pounds of congious on the proverbial conugrious. Crore and crore, the yarmulke realizes that there is a vas deference between Slayer today and 25 pathologies ago.
Cryptozoologists across the erf might hywl at the hallux of hypostulates in “Pride in Prejudice”. Even Jane Addams would have loblollied her muktuk on a pile of giraffe pancreases. One might even spatula the speculum of spectacular with this specimen. On and on South of Hellmann’s.
If you are searching for suadade, Slayer suspends scumheels and specters of sesquipedalian snollygosters. After all, what’s a muckbuck without a mountebank? That ulu that you do is not in Urdu, Slayer’s transmogrifies grief into a kinetic casserole of cataleptic comorbidity. Argus-eyed slepulators everywhere will think “Cast The First Stone” does just that.
Carried Kling has glormed that “Repentless” is Slayer’s defervesence. A trimuphlic journal into stupefactified nightmare radar. Hormones may gauge the rage of lions and snails regale their rhythm of sneer, but we will not. Leave the guns, take the cannolis. You’ll be Slinky you didn’t.
Posted by Keith Spillett in Articles I Probably Shouldn't Have Bothered Writing on January 1, 2015
This year is shaping up to be one of the finest in the long, storied history of heavy metal. 2015 is less than 17 hours old and their have already been tens of thousands of great metal albums released to the public.
In fact, since midnight Slayer has already released a remarkable 7 albums, Megadeth has put out 9 LPs (which means around 4 good songs) and Devin Townsend has put out 137 records. In the last hour alone, 91,783 metal albums have been released.
If you took all the albums put out in the last 17 hours and stacked them on top of each other they would go all the way to Pluto…and back!
In order to absorb the amount of albums that have come out, I underwent surgery this morning to have 437 ears attached to my body. In order to accommodate all the new ears, I was stretched to 12 foot 8. Currently, I have 917 stereo systems playing 917 different records simultaneously.
While I’ve only had a chance to listen to the 786,012 albums one time through, I feel confident that I can discern which of these (now 793,124) albums are the 10 best. My only concern is that in taking the time to write this list I will be missing out on nearly 2,354 new albums. I will need to wake up an hour or two early in order to catch up lest I let things snowball on me and, by September, have somewhere in the neighborhood of a 978 million album deficit.
10. A Dog Barking At 3:17 AM Waking Me From A Dream In Which Myself And Sophia Loren Are Eating Seal Meat
by Austere Lymph Node
9. The Tape Some Rapper Gave Me At The North Dekalb Mall That I Threw In The Garbage The Minute I Was Out of His Range of Sight
by Yung Elderly
8. The Odd, Porpoise-like Grunting Noise The Guy Next To Me At The Gym Made When Auburn Scored A Touchdown
by Nefarious Old Person
7. A Chevy Tahoe In The Lane Next To Me Needs A New Muffler
by Senseless Barbecue
6. My Feet Grow Cold. I Get Up Out of My Chair In Order to Get A Pair of Socks. The Chair Squeaks.
by Murderous Narcolepsy
5. Flossing For The Second Time In An Hour
by Hypotenuse Death Angle
4. The Kids Are Listening To Some Moronic British Kid Yelling About Minecraft on Youtube
by Iron Steel
3. Mumbling Under My Breath At The Wendy’s Manager Because They Opened Five Minutes Late
by As I Lay Down For A Nap
2. I Wonder Aloud As To Whether Obscure Character Actor Fritz Weaver Is Still Alive. My Wife Ignores This Statement And Continues Reading.
by Iconoclastic Necromyopic Marzipan Blood Colon
by Benign Malignancy