Blood Sugar Sex Fuckwits.
The Thunder Thumbed smack bucket and posterboy for rebels in Burton's suits everywhere, "Flea".
Oh where to start? Weak soft rock funk version of Level 42, but look they've got tattoos and dress all cool! Pitiful old men desperately trying to cling to their fading youth by making dreadful loathsome MOR dadrock with the weakest of shitty funk piss backing. I would gladly urinate on them if they were on fire, especially if i could substitute the word piss for pour more fucking petrol on them. As bad, if not worse than Robbie fucking Williams. Stop giving them your money, they only deserve your scorn.
There's something about this band of tedious pumped up waxy ballbags full of testosterone and heroin that makes by ears become sentient and desire a Michael Ryan style rampage. Let's look at "Flea", now i'm sure he has a proper name, but i am too lazy and disinterested to look it up, it would also involve me having to see another picture of the gurning smack dwarf's face, ravaged as it is by years of funk rock grimacing and earnest balladeering gurn. Now i'm no spring chicken, and admittedly on shaky ground as a man approaching 40 who is often seen dreesed in clothes a 25 year old woman would consider too young, but, will you please grow up you pisscloth! I get infuriated by the likes of RHCP and Slipknot et all, old men churning out "youth anthems" from their expensive studios, arriving in their ludicrous cars and on their custom choppers (you know the ones, built by that lardy beardo and his two retarded sons that run purely on jism and pheremones), and telling the yoot how they really feel inside. I think it's important for the kids to know how they really feel, from the perspective of a mid 40's junkie who thinks that the Status Quo waistcoat is a clothing essential. Not that i give two fucks about the kids, if they lap this shite up then they should contract earn nose and throat herpes and spend the rest of their lives paying for their lack of taste by seeping gangrenous fluid from all their upper head cavities. Funk rock! Funk Fucking rock! Why? Please Jebus, tell me why! It's Level 42 for oasis fans, the kind of people who say, i like hed kandi, bit of r&b, nut i really like indie music, y'know, like The Chilis, Oasis, The Kooks.....aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
One day a rain will come and wash you scum from the streets.
Although it's more likely to be a bit of light drizzle, in the form of one aging unhinged tranny waving a couple of claw hammers with 8" nails welded onto them squealing incoherently and flailing like a wonky windmill.
They have done this to me, i now have veins on my forehead like a relief map of the mississippi delta. CUNTS!
as you were.