Wednesday, February 10, 2016


BLAST  “Damned Flame”/”Hope” 7”
Absolutely crucial reissue of Belgium’s aptly-named Blast by Montreal label Death Vault. This little-known mofo originally came out in 1973 in an edition of somewhere between 300-500 copies. Knowledge of the time frame doesn’t make these two raging hellfire songs any less “sick,” but it certainly challenges your notion of “fast” and “punk” and, well, Belgians in general. “Damned Flame” barrels forth at a frantic pace, anticipating Motorhead, d-beat and speed metal. The only thing I can think that it sounds like is actually Gunslingers, a latter-day aggro-psych band from France. “Hope” is a smidge more straightforward hesher thrash, breaking for a couple piercing solos and still featuring that maniacal drum bash. I suppose a parallel could be drawn with the long-haired punks of Soggy, and of course there’s Raw Power. Oh wait, snap, Raw Power was recorded “in London's CBS Studios from September 10-October 6, 1972.” This Blast single was recorded “in Brussels on the 29th of August 1972.” Blast for the win by two weeks!

CCTV 4-Trak 7”
Every punk geek with an internet connect was tripping over themselves to get ahold of this speedy new wave corker straight outta NWI (NorthWest Indiana - acronym ed.). Helmed by Coneheads honcho Mark W, CCTV tap into that wonderful vein of weird but accessible wavo punk like BOB and Suburban Lawns. “Paranoia” is the hit -- a blitzkrieg of oscillating bass guitar and desensitized, almost unnerving femme vox. There’s some stabbing synth lines and monotone background vocals and it ends at the perfect time, careful not to overstay its welcome. As for the other cuts, “Quiet” sounds like a homage to the aforementioned Suburban Lawns, while “Anxiety” is a long-lost early college radio hit that got more than one Revenge Of The Nerds party jumping. “Mind Control” shows singer Jenn’s range as she channels that bored new wave vixen steez that always gets me.

Been a minute since a Crazy Spirit release, and it’d been a minute since I’d seen ‘em play as well. Saw ‘em recently and they opened with a cover of Butthole Surfers’ “Human Cannonball,” so that might give you a good idea of where their heads are at these days. As usual with Toxic State, the packaging here is stellar; I’ve probably said this before, but the TS aesthetic is sorta like Gravity Recs gone d-beat. Not on purpose of course, but to an old fart like me, the hand-folded/screened pocket sleeves/jackets and inserts remind me a lot of that stuff, but without all the touchy-feely crap. For instance, the illustrated lyric sheet is borderline beautiful and doubles as a poster (for your dorm room or squat). Also, there’s a strip at the top of the foldover flap that peels off to reveal a sticky streak that you can seal the sleeve with. I’m not the biggest packaging nerd in the world, but that is fucking cool. As to the music (oh yeah!), Crazy Spirit slithers through half a dozen grimecore trax and if you dug ‘em before, you ain’t gonna complain.

The Ex are basically The Rolling Stones of punk…..that is if the Stones never had a dip in quality, despite the line-ups changes and years on the road. I first saw The Ex play nearly 20 years ago. I have now seen them a dozen times. I’ve seen them blow Fugazi, Sonic Youth and Shellac off the stage. They should be headlining arenas the world over. They are headlining arenas across this earth for those with hearts and brains and a need for cleansing noise. Over the last few months, I had the incredible good fortune of seeing The Ex four separate times at four separate venues. Needless to say, they are as vital as ever, honing their unique push-pull attack until it is as fine as a grain of sand. I am awe of this band, yet they are some of the friendliest, most approachable and genuine music folks you could ever hope to meet. The joy they discover within their own music is palpable. They are masters of their trade, yet they manage to surprise the audience and themselves seemingly nightly. If you’ve ever had an inkling about The Ex, do not hesitate next time they are in your vicinity. Toddlers to grandmas, punks to squares -- Everyone loves The Ex. I’ve seen it. It’s the truth. The Ex started releasing 7”s again a few years back and here is the most recent, a collaboration with Ethiopian group Fendika. The Ex have toured Ethiopia twice and have made many friends there. “Lale Guma” is a cover of a song by Ayelew Mesfin and The Fetan Band. (as ever, The Ex are mindful of having their creativity be transparent aka always pay attention to their liners, you’ll learn a few things) The band was playing this song on the shows I caught, and while it features “a traditional war cry,” it is an uplifting and supremely danceable number. “Addis Hum” also featured in their sets, and it is “based on a traditional Ethiopian Gurage song.” If this is Ethiopia’s version of garage music (wahwah), then we need a sub-Saharan Nuggets post-haste. The Ex turn “Addis Hum” into a prime mover as drummer Katrin and the ladies from Fendika voice their frustrations; the band retains their inherent heaviness while making the skittering rhythms the focal point. Simply the best.

EXHAUSTION Phased Out 12”
“Phased Out” is all guitar n’ drum sturm und drang that trails off into vapour, while “Colleague” catches a ride on said trail and takes off on a marathon at a sprinter’s pace. Not much is “happening” here, but it’s got a visceral pull, a vortex-ical grinding. A downed power line in a hurricane, your car perched precariously above, rubber tires saving from electrocution. Exhaustion don’t “sound like” anything particular, which is worth its weight in [presumed valuable material] these days. Flip this 12” over for a retrograde trip back to the late 1990s, when every single had 5 remixes and thus became EPs of dubious value. Prime Minister of Australia Mikey Young’s “Phased” remix dulls the guitar roar and foregrounds the mantra vocals along with a disco-fried take on the beat aspects. It’s not bad, just too long and ultimately pointless. Rites Wild head for the shadows with their darker treatment of “Colleague,” but it still feels a bit beside the point (probably land OK after Clan of Xymox on goth night). But, much like Lindsay Lohan’s lying PR mouthpiece, I could use some more Exhaustion.

This 10-song 45 rpm 10” has just about everything working against it: bad-pun band name; cover art that looks like it would not even clear the low aesthetic bar of say, Dead Beat Records; pink vinyl (appropriate, yes - ugly, yes); and yeah a ten-inch? I don’t hate 10”s with the fury most collectors do, but still, I ain’t giving the toast at its fuckin’ wedding, if ya know what I mean. So, what’s the real surprise here? That’s this record doesn’t suck! Three ladies and a dude cram some pretty hot-shit garage punk onto this pink atrocity. Nothing really stands out, but I like the lady-led songs best. “Life’s A Drag Queen” kinda sounds like East Bay pop-punk after being dragged through the gutter and slathered with…..xylophone? I think they’re from Indiana, so if you see this at the store, maybe consider picking it up, they probably need all the positive reinforcement they can get.
[Heel Turn;]

Three songer from sad Aussies, guessing Brisbane cuz of the Tenth Court stamp. Pretty “bog”-standard indie strum-and-drag. If there was a little more ooomph behind these songs, particularly the A-side “Small Eye,” they’d veer into Versus territory, which ain’t a bad place to find yourself, even midway thru the second decade of the twenty-first century. The third song attempts to add a little drama to the proceedings, but its title cuts to the chase and lets you know what you’re in for; “Blunt Razor.” Yeah, that’s no use to anybody.
[Tenth Court;]

POP. 1280 7”
Pop. 1280 keeps plugging away and we ain’t mad at ‘em. “Penetrate” makes a decent case for Marilyn Manson to produce their next album. Hey, why not? Welcome to the dope show, fucko. “Krankenschwester” translates as “nurse” and is more reminiscent of past bruisings. The song features the line “Take the Greyhound to the graveyard” and somehow sells it via back alley cyberpunking. All aboard.

PSYKIK VOLTS “Totally Useless”/”Horror Stories #5” 7”
I saw virtually no mention of this well-done reissue this past year, which is a shame cuz it is a fine single of slightly weird, but fully rockin’ UK punk. Housed in a sturdy cardboard jacket and sounding crisp and loud off the player, Psykik Volts deliver a two-song killer. On “Totally Useless,” PV cops the main theme from composer Edvard Greig’s “In The Hall Of The Mountain King” (Hawkwind was evidently a fan too) and couples it with snide vocals to communicate just what fuck-ups they are. But we know the truth, as this song is too well-played and constructed for us to completely believe them. At the least, you’ll never hear the Inspector Gadget theme song the same way again. “Horror Stories no. 5” steals more horror movie guitar riffs (imagine a post-’77 Bernard Herrmann) and proceeds to rock it out every which way but loose. The short-lived Psykik Volts were heavier than the average UK punk combo at the time (1979-greatest musical year on record) and it sets them apart. Great single.

Ain’t no D in this band, so these ladies cut loose with the fury of four Lorena Bobbitts after a night of hard drinking. I heard they recently closed Bernie’s, the High Street watering hole/basement venue that hosted a few decades worth of Columbus, Ohio’s drunkest and loudest. Raw Pony exemplify that whiskey-soaked personal turbulence (aka trouble) in their churning gut-punched songs. “Shattered” throws in a harmony just to remind you that these bad bitches don’t totally hate you.
[Heel Turn;]

SEX TIDE  Vernacular Splatter 12”
Columbus, Ohio’s Sex Tide are back with another 12” long poke in the eye. They switched out a guitarist (Elijah from Bloody Show/Obnox etc is now in), but kept their dual six-string & standing/singing drummer method of attack intact. The majority of these swingin’ heartache blues rants remind me of Flat Duo Jets, from the other side of the gender gap. “Why Don’t You Want Me?” slows things down sticky like Link Wray cough syrup. I can safely say that men and women deal with pain in ways that aren’t as dissimilar as they’d have you believe.

Fantastic sophomore single by this UK six piece. With that amount of people crowding the sonic spectrum you’d be forgiven for thinking Slum Of Legs to be maximalists trying to cram as much sound as possible into the grooves. But they retain their inherent balance by carefully positioning each layer just so. “Doll Like” makes me think “What if Electrelane was happy?” The answer may surprise delight you. “Half Day Closing” is a lovely ache of a song, similar to the old world mod of Marine Girls or the more recent Long Blondes. But unlike those bands, Slum Of Legs have a certain restrained rage bubbling under these excellent and compelling songs. When’s the album?
[Tuff Enuff;]

SLEAFORD MODS “A Little Ditty”/’I’m Shit At It” 7”
I am an unabashed Sleaford Mods fan(boy?). Over the last few years, I’ve listened to their singles collection Chubbed Up as much as anything else in my collection. Sleaford Mods make incisive music; hilarious, and positively withering in its hilarity. I might not live in the UK, but Jason Williamson’s gut-busting and genuinely poetic screeds hit home for me 100 fuckin percent. Write all the think-pieces you want, people, the Mods are still gonna cut you up. “A Little Ditty” appeared on last year’s Divide & Exit and it’s an excellent example of Williamson’s scato-/socio-logical spew paired with Andrew Fearn’s deceptively brilliant music. Fearn has a knack for crafting irresistible grooves out of nagging bass lines and simple, head-down beat runs. Every time I DJ this sucker, people start moving and head-nodding and catching bits of lyrics and laughing. On the flip, they give the mic to their mate John Paul for a minute and his pure vitriol almost outdoes Williamson. In the background, Jason makes farting noises and engages in some call-and-response. Then the song proper begins and Fearn’s bass line is a big, fat paranoid line of K begging to crawl up your right nostril. Then John Paul comes back for a fuck-off send off. Hope you are able to deal with the word “cunt,” or are you shit at it?

Released in conjunction w/ Spray Paint’s 2015 Oz tour, the A-side delivers two more jittery winners from the trio with “Yr Shedding” being especially paranoid. EXEK do a noisy, winding, dubby post-punker called “Theme From Judge Judy” (what a repugnant woman eh?). It’s almost like Mud Hutters or Glaxo Babies, reveling in its everydayness while also trying to transcend it via extrasensory out-of-body sonics. More, please.

Promising 4-song debut by this newer Aussie group made up of members of bands like Gentlemen, UV Race, EXEK and others. The mode is post-punk and the music is forceful and tense (well lookie here, there’s a minute-long rant called “Tension” on the flip). Stations share the sensibilities of fellow countryfolk like TAX and Nun. “Hunting” goes for the throat with big beat verses and singer Joanna Nilson’s mocking voice on the chorus. Need more info? According to Nilson: “We like sticky yellow biker speed, Aperol spritzers, blow up pools, black mesh, Scott Walker, Bikini Kill, ASOS, obscure Italian disco and each other.”

VEXX Give And Take 7” EP
Despite the numerous pops on my pressing, Vexx’s second proper release is probably my favorite punk record of 2015. Most bands would kill to write a song as good as each one of these four distinct cuts. “Black/White” is as earnest as it gets, but it’s welded to a solid mid-tempo punk frame that takes time out for a couple tasty r n’ r licks. The Tyrades-like attack of “Sleeping In The Attic” gets my blood pumping hard, singer Mary Jane Dunphy’s voice hitting that perfect pitch, conveying anger and desperation in equal measure. The way she belts out “...and I gotta find a new place to live!” near the end sends chills up my spine. Oh yeah, this is why I listen to punk rock. I spent a few freezing months in the late ‘90s sleeping in an attic in Akron, Ohio. This is my retroactive theme song. The B-side repeats the formula -- “Walking In The Rain” is a tough blues, recalling Legal Weapon’s hard-won wisdom. If you don’t find yourself jumping around your bedroom to “Flattened Scenes,” well, shit, don’t you like to dance? Don’t worry, nobody’s watching, and Vexx are on the stereo; this is the appropriate response. Really nice packaging on this baby, but I hope your pressing doesn’t click like mine! Take a chance regardless -- Vexx is a rare, beautiful bird this late in the game.

Monday, November 23, 2015


I like that. not the state of being, but the ache the word implies.

Yeah, it's been a helluva couple weeks. I don't really have a nice story for you. I threw up blood for 3 days straight. Time distended and I entered a fugue state, a shamanistic moment of hyperawareness and complete and utter GIVING IN to whatever oblivion awaits me.
Of course, the doctor's have other terms they use to describe this state. My favorite is one I made up myself "fatally dehydrated." Eventually I went to the hospital, barely standing, and they hooked me up to a bevy of essential fluids and thus, I remained on this mortal coil.
Fun, you say? Oh, you don't know the half of it...
All of my problems, self-inflicted and fate-inflicted coming home to roost their fat greedy bodies. The demons need to feed. So they sucked a bunch of life out of me, but I'm still here. Building my strength back up, reflecting heavily on my life, where it's led me, what the hell do I wanna do with the rest of it, and how much time do I want to do it with. Well, I can be a greedy bastard myself, so I'm trying to keep it going a while longer, and maybe even be able to use where I've been and who I've been when I'm there.
Your English is wonderful. You write like a poet.
And thus the circle begins.
Change is good. Need a fresh start on certain things. Trying to recharge my creative battery. I tested it and it was nearly completely drained. No more!

Of course... you are allowed to use "mater"! Well, my stepfather killed himself because of his schizophrenic psychosis... all the people around me have a broken psyche/soul…----

----... suicide by kiss.... (my heart stops beating by the very thought of it!)
If my lil' castle would be much bigger, i'd ask you if you wanna come over to stay here for a little while. I realized you need a new home... maybe a place where you and your racing soul can find a docking point... ... etc.
... i'd love to cling onto your shoulder!!!
----Did you know that... ... you are like a plaster? You're sticking on my heart like a plaster that sticks together with an open sore. Oh, it really hurts if i try to remove that one... ... if i try to pull you off of my heart. Can you feel the pain? Can you see how it bleeds? ... ... so, every little break, every moment where i cannot read you... ... it hurts... as much as a torn off plaster!

I choose not to forget. It's right above me, perched there. Head darts - quizzically. Exaggeration is often a veil disguising the truth. Underneath - pulsing, racing, searching for rest.
I feel bad I can not speak to you in your native tongue as eloquently as you speak to me in mine.
You've got a leg up on me, young lady. But I don't mind.

Can a sigh cross an ocean? Can a bird outfly time?
Imagination is the only escape from drudgery.
A hand can eclipse the sun. Wave, and wave.
How tall are you? (and how much does your brain weigh?)
And do you dance around your room a lot? I bet that's a heart-stopping sight.

... .............. What a wonderful brainfuck (i love you for this...)! ... still moaning.

... do you have a bicycle? You look so fit... ... so, get your ass on the saddle and pedal as fast as you can! OR you can lasso a trailer hitch...
I'll wait here for you.
BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT ... DON'T dare to sell your record collection!!!

"The Pubococcygeus muscle controls urine flow and contracts during orgasm."

Someday your prince will come and all those tears will create a lovely lake, right behind your house. And there will be wine and cheese for everyone.

You're the K.I.L.L.E.R.!!! Fuck... this picture............ i'm gonna die now!

nononono "she makes things fly 'n she maked things roll/she got me way over here 'n I'm hungry 'n cold"

.......... but first you've to drink 5 liters of water - you're too dry to hold me... i bet your arms will be starting to melt when i start crying. i guess they're powdery now, without all that sweat.......

Ask yourself: Would you ever make that leap?
I did, I have, I will again. Falling on my face is something I do fairly gracefully. It has paid off before, but this time - broken nose/wounded pride. I hope you work your thing out. I suppose you will remain a ghost in my memory, never quite solid, never quite real. A whisper from the other side of the world.

Your life isn't worthless. But I know how you feel. I wish I could press that into your body. I wish I could have a chance to impress you. I can't imagine being more in love with someone I'll never meet.

My lord, woman, do you make me ache for something I've never even known. Oh how I wish I could help you escape your chains. I've got other plans for your arms and legs.

Still vaguely in love with you, you gorgeous ghost you.

... it's horrible that people steadily only apprehend/realize the negative statements in their life and in the same time they totally missed/ ignored the words and signs of love.
I really miss us.

December 21st. Winter solstice. Longest night of the year. Day with most darkness. I'm getting old and lonely. Bring on the twilight.

to zip a small hint of a threat

I'm sure you have a lovely heart that tastes really good and looks great in a dress.

I'm afraid that there's no need to force me... so... ... i'll take you up on that... some time - if you wouldn't have forced an other girl till then. I really lived that Freudian slip.
... buuuuut i need a human juicer so that i can produce this special-flavored ice cream.
... oh man, another innocent soul was taken by such a shitty psychical diseases....... it shattered me everytime, when i hear that someone had to go by psychical diseases. I guess, you know... my stepfather had the same... his demons have eaten him up.
Sorry... i'm so sorry... i still wish... i could....... would... fuck....... i'm crying. Life is such a big fat pile of shit.

Mine eyes have drank up all they can of your form.
Nothing left to do but grasp it betwixt mine own two hands.
Firmly. But with mercy. and Tenderness.
Now is when I make a sound someplace between a sigh and a growl.
Experiencing intense dehydration, skyrocketing blood sugar, fever dreams, accepting spiritual punishment, enduring bizarre and disgusting pain.

I know the meaning of pipe dreams. in German we call it: Luftschlösser such as castles in the air.
I thought a bubblegum freak is someone who loves it when a girl sucks his dick with a chewing gum in her mouth.

The flesh is paramount. What it comes encased in is merely window-dressing. Frilly underthings should beware my teeth.

hmmm, i am a fat cow with a bunch of pimples, the painters are in my basement (monthlies), i am going to lose my job and stuff like that.
Life is like a whore - she fucks around with the human souls like a whore does it with her johns. BUT, the art is: not to pay for every single fuck (with your life)... to escape your soul from all the dirt in life.

Fuck the tour, need to schedule a tour of your bed.

Be my knight. Free me from my fetters. And take me with you to the place where you want to settl down.

The same sad goddamn story. Money is greased to me now; won't even stay in my grip.
... your scent dazed my senses. What a fucking hell.
I went to the hospital this night, because of huge pain in my head and in my stomach. I've puked a few times. So, they told me that i was dehydrated, so i had to get an infusion. Ugh. I could still puke and my head feels like as if i had drunk two bottles of whiskey. I can't eat, or sleep.

Oh man I’m so sorry you're sick. I bet you're gorgeous even when face down in a toilet bowl. I'd hold your hair anytime, baby.

(th'r'oat) ... i never wish death so much like i want him now.
I want to die in your stomach.

That was supposed to be blood dripping from my mouth.
The reason I became a werewolf vampire ghost was so I wouldn't have any feelings. They lied to me!
Painfully human.
Frail sickly pale diseased rotting from the inside human wreck.
with a wicked sense of humor; a saving grace.

There are times in our lifes where we aren't able to add more than a little sigh after something that leaves you speechless.
... if only i could bring your heart back to the track of love.

Have you ever been stoned? Have you ever been fat? Do you ever wear skirt or dresses? Do you have a best friend? Why is my S key dying?

Pretty embarrassing to read this novel... i mean, i found tons of grammatical errors. Would you do me a favor? Please, amend my sentences. That will help to improve my English. Oh, btw: I know that I must write the 'I' with a capital letter.

I like your neck.

#1: The window to my home #2: Our TV tower #3: A small but beautiful theater on my street
Do you remember where i've lost my key?

Put yr head on my chest-pillow.

A notion separated by an ocean.


What's a headcracker? Someone who loves to crack heads?
A message isn't as good as a massage.
Oh, thanx, Mr. Taciturn.
Did you know that i love wild birds!?

My young dunnock.
My blue tit.
My great tit.
And the sweetest robin on earth!

You wanted to see my life and some things that surround me - there it is - there they are.

Such like: Greenfinch, great spotted woodpecker, tree creeper, magpie and etc.
... i love almost every animal on earth... but i am not so into spiders... arachnophobia! ... and i don't like gnats.

Tree creeper!

Birdsongs are as wonderful as pictures of birds!
... oh, take you time skinny bumble-bee.
... ha. My quality as a thief isn't that good.
... oh stop... i didn't know if you are in the mood for such melodies........ i mean, you know that i am very open when it comes to stuff that is related to the heart and etc.
What a short night. Phew. I am at work since 5 hours - my head smokes as heavy as a bong.
What exactly may i find behind that line if i'd pull apart every syllable of it? Put it in a nutshell.
Btw: I've gotten a few extra pounds on my hips and belly during the last weeks. I feel like a super-fat cow. Moo!
And you, Mr. Skinny?
Your voice is like honey. I had a dream about you last night. It was pretty weird but I distinctly remember having my hands on your hips.
You sounded like you were whispering to me under a blanket, just our bodies and breath to keep us warm.

... i usually have a ready tongue....... but she loses the touch with my vocabulary when it comes to such excitatory statements.

Old & grey, no. Time is of the essence. A good plan? Probably not. But I've pulled off a few things in my life. You must conceptualize, reduce, boil. Life is alchemy. Love is the gold.
Ominous, a coming storm. Cleansing waves.

... i bet, another piece of your sweet confection and i'll feel the death by chocolate.

So effortlessly buoyant. I wish I could float on that feeling forever.
This longing for you is growing....untenable.

... there's really only one thing i can say in that very touching moment: You bring me back to life again. I'm speechless.
but... sometimes i think we are walking on the same path - hand in hand - and then, in the next moment it feels like as if we had lost the contact because you are on Neptune and i am on Mars. ...
I want your voice - now.

Ahhhh, there you are. I think about you often. You're like an itch I can't scratch. How was your summer? How are you? I missed you. You are a source of longing, a lake of placid water, cool and reflecting and too beautiful to touch.
Someone should print out our correspondence and make a pretty little sad book with it.

But today, i couldn't resist to send a message. I've missed you so much. And now i'm very glad to read your typed voice again. It's kinda soothing for the mind.

It is/was so out of balance that it was making me dizzy.
Like all of us, he had his demons.

Please keeping your fingers crossed that everything will turn out fine. I worry about to get an inflammation.

Now that sounds like a nice damn dream. You should go back to sleep and live there.

I'm so glad but as you can assume the tension was very heavy that's why i should better go to bed now.
Life is wonderful when I read stories like this. Maybe I've lost this information somewhere in my muddled brain. Thank you for sharing such private stuff with me.

I just want to clasp some of your flesh in my hand, is that so much to ask?

... holy jeez... that would be incredibly nice. Phew... i can imagine it - 
... she's so starved out................I wanna taste your spit.
... how would you name your own candy shop?
A store where you'd sell thousand different candies.
I think it's a perfect plan to kill 2 birds with one stone... or so.
Sugar will the death of me, but sex might just save my life.

Kinda like a well-dressed felled tree. really fucks my soul so hard that I can't even think of something else than my demons and the past.
Music is definitely the healing force... but L can do its rest. The combination of 
 both can heal a broken soul...
... I'm melting... these collarbones...

It's all an act. My head is barely above water.
Like most fiction, it's a combination of both.

But I know I'm pretty ugly at times.

Shut your mouth.

Volcanic body eruption?
I wish I could destroy all these things which tortures your body.
Maybe I could crawl 'em away with my fingertips?
Or scratch 'em out of your veins with my nails?

I like the way how you talk yourself into a rage.
Sometimes it's like as if I'm standing in front of a big mountain when I wanted to respond on a statement (like: 'I carry you with me'):

I am wondering, can only two people perform an orgy? Or does an orgy has more participants?

Prettiest girl in the shittiest world.

You, me and the sunset.

You can use my voice whenever you want.

Gimme that thing. I'll read it for you.

There's something wrong with my heart.