In case you haven't been involved in the twentieth century, woozyhelmet is going on tour this summer to finish things off very nicely. We'll be spreading toxic fumes across the lands in our boat car, made out of my dad's aluminum fishing boat and toto's parents' vw bug. We're bringing Chris along. He and I are hoping to break lots of things.
More space between you and I, my freind, just like last time we talked. Nothing has changed. Nothing!
Put your clothes back on, you sicko. Woozyhelmet doesn't want to see it. Or at least not right now, right here in front of everybody, like that guy from France, surfing for Austin punk band porn sights. Yeah, well, we're watching you buddy, and you're alot funnier anyway...
What's going on?
Listen to some music right now. That is what woozyhelmet wants you to do. Some good shit. Real emotional, stupid. Juvenile, Leanard Cohen, whatever. Just put some friggin music on before I throw up. One should not drink after rock stars. One should have come straight to the computer lab before passing rock stars giving one beers.
and that cigarette too.
Bad bad shit.
I can feel it. I'm gonna work up some real madness tonight. When it gets to be around ten in the morning, I'm gonna believing in Almo, God of the CHipsangle region. Woozyhelmet parties with Almo. Almo will party with you. Won't you party with Almo?
You have a place for us to stay?
You want us to come to your town to play the rock and roll show?
Wow, that's great. You should
email me
Go somewhere Do something Be somebody Fug off!