a discomfort i cannot express encased in meat and bone and water trapped in a mechanism of our own existential wandering they come from all over inexplicably unstable and full of disquiet how may i direct your call to nowhere to nothing an existence made sentient for its own amusement they shove their fingers inward … Continue reading forget it…
Your boy Hank and his boy the Beez get their Creed on! KINYOUUUTAKEMRRRHIIIIGHURRRRR!!!!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tF5XZl9JSME Couch Karaoke - Sangin' Some CREED! © Ryan Scott Sanders and Hank The Wvrm, 2014-2020. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be … Continue reading Couch Karaoke!
A while back, bored and laid up with a broken foot, I tried my throat at some low-key bedroom karaoke renditions of a couple of my favorite acoustic tracks by one of my favorite bands, the inimitable Clutch! Be disappointed below... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zq6sbpc7to8 Bedroom Karaoke - Clutch's "Tight Like That" (Acoustic) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZPmbe5MomE Bedroom Karaoke - Clutch's … Continue reading Bedroom Karaoke!
"Hey, Hank." "Hey buddy." "Been a weird one, huh?" "This? This ain't nothing." "I don't know whether to take comfort in that, or be fearful." "You're always fearful." "Yeah. I suppose. Don't mean it. But, yeah." "Why do you think that is?" "I should be asking you. Questions, I mean." "Don't deflect." "Well. I suppose. … Continue reading “The Fear Is Excruciating, But Therein Lies The Answer” – A Dialogue With Hank
We were in the car, cruising dreamily along Lakeshore Drive, eyes like flying saucers peering out into the blanket of cool, black void consuming the vast expanse of Lake Michegan, when the waves began to wash up my spine, shockingly cool, with a strangely serene froth lapping at the bank of my lizard brain. Time … Continue reading A Mild Psychotic Trip
I was searching, for what felt like years all stitched together with fragile ribbons of nerve tissue, through an infinite mound of sun-hot sand, for something completely intangible and without name but somehow I knew finding it to be essential. Thousands of small, deformed, multicolored beetles with razor-head mandibles would come scurrying out from underneath … Continue reading Dream Stuff
"Waves crash down, unrelenting, unending. We are stone shaped by the force of its abuse; colossal mountain ranges eroded to jagged shorelines; aged cliff tops, decrepit and helpless; earthen cadavers now ripe for mining to the very core of our souls. Or so we would have you think. Magic is willpower. Willpower is magic. Self-knowledge … Continue reading “We are stone shaped by the force of its abuse;”
Title from Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show, "The Cover of 'Rolling Stone'" I want to start a one man "band" making loud, angry, destructive heavy music. This is going to be quite a process: 1.))) Dust off my guitar and start jamming. 2.))) Dust off Stacy's old keyboard, and our Grandpa's fucking bad-ass electric organ, and … Continue reading Ah, that’s beautiful… We got a lot of little teenage blue eyed groupies who do anything we say…
I love how it takes me five hours to watch a one hour show because I think I recognize that guy and, wait let me Google movies that star a strong Latino barber, but hang on this Mountain Dew is empty and while I'm up we're out of chips, so I better let the dogs … Continue reading This is why nothing gets done.
Title from Fistula, "Smoke Cat Hair and Toenails", from the album Vermin Prolificus Manic as fuck. This has been building. It's a frantic race to nowhere. A deranged rat on a hamster wheel. The sedatives aren't working ("I think I can handle my sedatives, bro..." -Charlie). Cyclical thought experiments. Running through my past transgressions. Recall, … Continue reading …down on the floor, scratching for more…