black hole
Tub-thumping tin cans straddling city curbs and smoker's debris. Rust and leftover dirt and AAA stickers catch each beat on the bumper, held up by the strokes of amateur welders and worse. There's a lightly seasoned sixteen year old twenty-something year old behind that tinted glass and black spray painted steel. Thinks he has something to prove to the passersby who he will never see again, to the light sleepers and late sleepers and raunchy drunks. Let the subwoofers do the talking and the thinking for you, you degenerate.
there are only one of two ways this madness will end. you put the onion ring on the floor or i summoning this god damn dragon.
The Dragon Experience.
No.