The Fundamentals of Off-The-Cuff Writing

Here we go.

Muchos is going on. Too zany to really stop and contemplate anything right now, so I’ll just bosh on like Travis Bickle in a brothel… strike that… EXACTLY like Travis Bickle in a brothel, oh the filth coming out at night, great rain, wash the trash away, etc. You think Taxi Driver is bad, you should check out Piscorp on a dark night. Shady happenings aplenty while we graft in our own little creative world, and besides, we don’t give out musicians union card away just ‘cos we can.


Anyway – new job. Finally. Long, hard, four and a half year graft to get power, but power I now have, and you think you’ve known suffering? Bear witness to the wrath of an angry Area Co-ordinator, making wild, sweeping changes, grabbing libraries by the underpants and yanking them into line… but I’ve got to be focussed. There will be no more pills, no more bad food, no more destroyers of my body. From now on will be total organization. Every muscle must be as tight as your Mom. The band? Well, we’re pushing as always, moving towards the next batch of songs, the next chapter in the world of Pisco. We have stories to tell, yeah, stories, and these new stories, they’re tough. They’ll twist your minds and leave you begging for a Cadbury’s Crème Egg while perverts and psychos steal your eyelashes. TRUE force. All the king's men cannot put it back together again.

So anyway, you talking to me? Are you talking to me? Eh? Oh. Go on. No… please… hello?

Petros Cheesecake You Monkey!