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Killer Metal Lyrics

No drone to call my own? (Or their bigger-than-thought-navy’s ships, in or out of the slip, such as at sea in the gulf, like a gull.) —– Green galore St. Pat’s Day post has been added. —– Remember back when a drone was little more than a flying kite? We have plenty for Iran, in a war that is growing in its greater-than-usual unpopularity. What are the merits of this “conflict?” Don’t expect Iranians to use the euphemistic word.

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Here I go without an airship or warship to call my own, much less an actual army or armada, droning […]

Killer Metal Lyrics

Is your now-high-priced oil too syrupy? Even with that thin film on top? Maybe because its all been in the same barrel as maple? Since Iran just tried to take out Trump, in yet another of these assassination attempts, my conspiracy theory says that this all is to blame, as cost of a big barrel of crude lube is moving upward toward triple digits, after being half that. Sales of syrup said to follow simultaneously, and more than just slightly. —– To that end, and I’ll suggest, eat it Lent!

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Oil increases now upsetting you, in this wanton war with Iran, opposed by even young GOP voters? Trump just calls

Killer Metal Lyrics

Ring the haringbalzematas, wriggle the whozitmatals, blare the Trump trumpets, as another war is finally on, with Dr. Suess and Kid Rock and RFK Jr. collaborating to entertain the troops with trademark nonsense phrasings. Such lyrics likely permeated the blasts with various instruments of liberal metal music of protest under an ICE awning at a local motel. Literally No Sleep Till Brooklyn (Park), as this song was appropriately played.

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It finally happened, amidst the hoopla. Enough foreplay. War is hell enough, without her getting her expectations up. Going in without

Killer Metal Lyrics

It’s just about any genre for about two hours, the length of a Twin Cities concert or more, but this is over the other direction in Roberts for Monday evening open mic. They fill the big, main room, at Bobtown, with plenty of instruments, say Billy Bob and beyond, in the house band to choose from for backup. So bringing guitar optional.

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While most open mic nights these days have to hope and pray, with their gospel brothers and sisters, they’ll get enough

Killer Metal Lyrics

This is a story of faithfulness, quadrupled, if that is your thing. A group of four of us bonded, to the point of planning frequent movie nights, and even doing in a single take our own duet recording of Hotel California, just for fun. And making plans to go to such a concert, too, with our newfound two-string master. Not to sound preachy, but this mini-ministry to each other spread robustly to others in the building where we reside, and helping all of us love life.

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The gang of four, as in bandmates, among us. At first take, a call out to your neighbors for compassion

Killer Metal Lyrics

Mick Jagger’s edge extends into the Epstein files. As one would expect, with his profound but racy lyrics as a precursor. Jagger addressed his critics ahead of the game, by saying take it or leave it, this is what it is and — reluctantly — who I am. Sax player Clinton and others are guilty, or not, of the same swarmy but non-criminal predilections — so not excluded — but Lolitans included.

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As we see the parade of faces, some redacted or made into black boxes or blurred, throughout the Epstein files,

Killer Metal Lyrics

Faithful to the Green and Gold, or Purple and Gold, this tug or war forces 100s to don winter gloves, and a parka, Packers or otherwise, is recommended if your’s is the waist to wrap the rope around. Your neck will just not do, even for vanquished Vikings. Pack-friendly Hudson does its like-Lambeau, now non-Lift Bridge frozen take, on a structure over the lake.

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This tug of war, like the Vikes on fourth and goal vs. the Pack, but with third string quarterbacks, puts

Killer Metal Lyrics

Rock all around (this weekend’s) clock, returning to Old School, around the time it all started, with both AC/DC and the Hudson Hot Air Affair and what you are about to receive … if counted and saluted as standing up as a Jedi, and otherwise as a Sky Walker. They will give you everything you need, if you tie it all together through that decades’ old classic song, now rediscovered, via the flame of a balloon burner and its rising. — And now the Super Bowl’s back, after a siesta.

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For those about to (yet again) rock, we salute you … Fire. For the Sky Walkers, they Return To Rock

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