Suicide Sundaes – stop your grinnin' and drop your linen. Every Sunday electblake of Earmilk will bring you the weeks dirty servings, and some old favorites through a throwdown-throwback to simpler times. A time when bangers were big, remixes were bigger, the bassline bled, and we didn't care about anything as long as came in kicking and left screaming. To hell with sketchy Sunday, we want to shove another dragon down the hole.
After last night's set I went straight to the bar and ordered 2 ounces of scotch and 1 beer. In my haste to celebrate my victory over the injustices of "open act signal flow" (which keeps my bpm and volume lower then it would normally) I mistakenly chose to drink before packing up my gear. Now it's the next day and I don't have a charger for my laptop so I am scrambling to get this post in whilst watching the clock tic-toc down on my battery.
Through some magic of screen diming and memory management – I've managed to get this up and running for you this week, I'm going to pop an Advil or maybe a little hair of the dog that bit me, but until next time – stay thirsty.