The second I heard the electronica riff which opens MANDER SALIS: An Album, I nearly puked up my shrimp-tips all over this hottie’s rack. I must have grabbed this sleep-fest by accident out of my trailer.
Hey, if you’re a farm-raised faggot and sitting around a campfire with the uneaten remainder of your two hundred bastard offspring, by all means, pop this beauty in to get yourself ready for some nighttime fry-touching (close your eyes, kids, Big Dick’s gonna tell you a funny story which involves a snake with a huge crown).
But hey, I bang scaly broads for a living, so understandably, the rope-smoking brother-duo William and Franklin Sammons ain’t quite my style (and yeah, I’m a salmon too but there’s no relation, okay?).
This whiney folksy Radiohead clone music worked me up as good as that 20 pound homo-tuna who put on a wig and tried to pretend he was a real on-set fluffer. My co-star Annabelle SucksMeOff, however, actually enjoyed their kindergarden lyrics: "we don’t like this, no, sleep sleep sleep, we speak more softly." Doesn’t surprise me, that one-finned skank, ever since she sucked some fire corral by accident and suffered irreversible brain damage. I don’t mind because now she loves it when a horned toad is rubbing her with his warts from behind while I shove a dried achovie up her cooter – she hums a falsetto tune just like the last song on the album called "Fields Of Ius."
I gotta be honest, I liked the first 2 instrumental minutes of "Echolalia" after I smoked a fatty laced with mescaline. I thought I was floating into a school of parrot fish under a blacklight and all I wanted to hear was "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" but all of a sudden the drums kicked in and those whiney pricks Bo and Jo WeLickEachOther started singing— what a buzz-kill.
Now I have to go gang-bangin’ around the reef, and get rid of their off-pitch voices in my head with some sweeter off-pitch moaning and wailing. Guess these guys from Alabama can get you riled up after all. Word of advice: stick to your $10 gigs, add one of your cousins into a threesome, and re-record the album with some good Southern ass-bangin’ in the background. THEN it might be worth the $1.50 in the gay porn soundtrack discount rack.
