this is where bong will ramble a little bit about how to get down with bard.
we've had quite a few eager beavers send us words and sounds and pictures.
and thank you.
can't really say what it is that draws us to post what we do and give back what we don't. the bong would venture to say it is a particular vibe to a sleepy sentence and a flagrant disregard to policing of punctuation. the bard would say it has to do with a porn type gut rub administered via artistic endeavor. that minimal synth low beam that hits you and you alone where only you can feel.
really it all depends on your bio.*
okay. so officially - the tone is oozing sarcasm and the style is all, "DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID?? YOUR CUNTING DAUGHTER??"
please note the following:
what is going on inside your head, coming out of your keyboard or pen, is incapable of shocking or offending us. this is a money back guarantee. if you feel that something you've written has been denied or overlooked due to censorship or abhorrence - you are wrong. simple as that.
sound standards. plenty of detail here, pinpointing the exact spell to open the door to heavens trap. if you can't get it, we won't get you. it's a pretty fair standard.
shoe grind or gaze core? this is home. lately, we've been posting on tuesday. that could change as we are oppositional defiant and uncomfortable with anything that might constrict our otherwise totally indebted lives to the man. go fuck yourself and take us with you.
outside of regular content - if you have a book/short/album/fartnoise you want one of us to review or if you have something really awesome you want us to share, send us an email email@example.com.
don't feel obligated to list a billion lit zines in your bio/feel suicidal because you have no lit zines to boast you yet/think that we are paying attention to that shit. we don't. it makes us feel uncomfortable, like priests that hand out business cards.