Christmas: festival of consumerism. Consumerism: everyone out shopping for gifts. Everyone out shopping for gifts: streets full of happy people. Streets full of happy people: lots of traffic. Lots of traffic: car moving at a snail’s pace. Car moving at a snail’s pace: possibility of open windows. Possibility of open side windows, the music you listen to from your stereo spreads through the streets.
And how are the streets? Full of happy people.
And how do happy people react to the music you spread through open side windows? 90% of the time, badly.
And if people are upset, what does your male_reproductive_organ care about your testicular_container? Nothing.
Therefore: Bongzilla.
Doom? Well, yes, Doom by surname, Stoner by first name.
Sludge? Indeed: heavy, distorted but discernible riffs, and deep bass for a bulldozer duo.
Psych? Also yes: clean solos, offbeat drums, very clean and melodic arpeggios overdubbed onto the aforementioned heavy riff, overdubbing - in addition - of documentaries on: the use of soft drugs worldwide - benefits of using soft drugs worldwide - detriments of using soft drugs worldwide - various uses of soft drugs - tips on optimising soft drugs... all this still from a documentary, with the calm and composed voice "of someone who knows," always overdubbed onto the aforementioned music. And of course - always overdubbed - recordings of the band's Bong Sessions with related bubbling, laughter, and incitements like: shot long, shot long… yeah… laughter.
Lyrics? "Load bongs, not Guns. If you want to blow sky high, take another hit, let's fly".
Nice, isn’t it? Yes, well, wonderful, male_reproductive_organ without the final "o" replaced by "arola" .
Therefore: Bongzilla, Santa Claus, Baby Jesus, Angels in Column (not in the aforementioned traffic), the Virgin Mary and the telephone number of Moonchild's girl under the tree. For everything else, there's guttalax.
And a hug to the Befana, which isn't her fault if…
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