I want your skull. I need your skull.
Happy hours are a beautiful thing. I am completely in favor of happy hours.
If you build it, they will come. Baseball fans will go anywhere.
Why do I still eat the music-as-metaphorical equivalent of gross, bloating garbage served by the likes of Morgan Wallen and Aaron Lewis?
Your music reminds me of loved ones long gone and old childhood homes. It’s important to me, and since it’s important to me, I want everyone I love to try and love it too.
I have no nostalgia for my high school years, but there is something about those years of cry-screaming at emo shows that served as a demarcation between innocent youth and… less innocent youth.