The Leather Nun
Alive

Bored by such Bergmanesque depression, we would expect, included in the price, instead of a survival kit, a suicide kit containing rope and soap (you have to bring the stool yourself), a wrist razor (cut vertically, as rightly suggested by the instructions), and flavored poison (inside a chic Murano vial).

And yet, surprisingly, the "living" freshness of these Scandinavians shatters those Viking stereotypes of people who spend six months in shade and six months in sun and who, in these modern times, "northern depression" is drenched with copious doses of palindromic psychotropics, regularly prescribed by those "buddies" known as doctors.

Due to diabolical "woke" directives, for some years now in Sverige, even from nursery school, they teach (or rather, they oblige) little boys to pee sitting down like little girls, naturally not to be "inclusive," but to trigger a castrating effect always from the perspective of the plan (which has already failed and they don't know it) for the drastic reduction of the European humanity.

And instead, it feels like the members of the band have always practiced peeing standing up where shaking off the little gun without raising the seat identifies that rocker nature, which is genuinely felt in the album and makes us overlook the fact that after the third (shake) it's a bluff. And so, arm in arm with their own and their "ejaculations," we are pleased to find points of contact with these "warm splashes" captured near the Arctic Circle. In short, thank goodness there is still a desire for a Vulva for a Volvo.

The obscenity of a musical ride, all things considered, is crystalline, but with gleeful psycho flashes, goes hand in hand with the desire it arouses in us to pull out from mothballs that leather jacket from our youth that we have tenaciously defended from wives who wanted us to throw it away. And that sound of creased leather, when we slip on the second sleeve, is music to the ears and matches all the tracks on the album.

The evolution of directly urinating in the sink goes hand in hand with the surprise that the bladder (verb) this "golden shower" made of rock, garage, funky, noise.

The solar excitement grows with each listen and magically brings RA's rays directly into those basements, pubs, clubs that offer the antithesis of that life wrongly understood today as false self-love within a cannibalistic capitalistic vision. The healthy distortions produced put everything back onto tracks that meet before infinity, without complications.

Be sure to accompany the umlaut with a urine-therapeutic toast that, further tarantulated by the bite of the spider on the cover, will unequivocally make you scream at the top of your lungs, on the drakkar's deck, the name of the group in their native tongue: LÄDERNUNNAN!

All this provided IKEA (does not) allow...