it was handed down to us from above

yup. all over the place, soert of. w6, earth fest, florence (twice in one night), tiger stock?, rooster's, ale house. the band liked it, but not as much as the crowds. oh yeah, people floppin around like fish and screaming, and fightin with reginald who was acting like a big asshead and screamin.

indie-pendence!

would they pay the bills, and not rape everyone's minds and leave us dry on some crappy club circuit for washed-up fad bands that used to be good before a major record label took over all artistic license over the band's material in order to improve recod sales.

five people were thrown into a great big burlap sack and poked and agitated with sticks and electric pods and radioactive rods were thrown in with them and the whole mess was all shook up until their separate bodies began to fuse together forming a single tight sexxy sassy musical unit with the supernatural power to control the bodies of all who are within earshot of the sounds it makes. when the creation was dumped out of the burlap sack after the metamorphosis was complete the extra parts fell to the floor in front of the beast, reading "Auburn Bikini"

dead milkmen, thinking fellers union, need new body, let's fight nasa, mareka, roof rabbit, pavement, your favorite band (that doesn't suck), jimmy's chicken shack, archers of loaf, etc.

that spot under there.