The intersection of Valentine Ave. and Malaise Blvd, where all the roads in the universe converge and meet at Hades’ playground, is an unmarked crossroad in the middle of no where. Though under it’s mundane front is a location where souls are a commodity and the futures on souls is bright. Buy or sell, my reasons were unclear but the absence of the horny assistant gave me neither option. Too many idol hands in the world have left me with no appointment book to sign.…Keep Reading
Two Headphones and a Board with Keys
The time has come to use incorrect grammar for it’s intended purpose. Two headphones and a keyboard work in unison to create streams of consciousness, which opens a mental image for you to glimpse into the mind that creates this private haven on the triple W. At the moment, we are no more than a blip on the road, a broken down shop along route 66, but we have the potential to become a full blown roadhouse with Patric Swasy on the door and a villain who shares my name.
Electric Boots and Mole Hair Suits
The time is 1 pm, the sun is high in the sky, a English muffin egg sandwich is in my belly and the keyboard is in front of me. Sure smells like hump day. I haven’t rapped with my nearest and dearest, best and brightest, both old and new, in a while and feel you deserve the low down on this American NonFiction local.…Keep Reading

