Greetings friends and fuckrags.
How’s your week been so far? Are you taking double the amount of caffeine to work or school in order to make it through your day? Do you come home weary to eat nachos and dream of bringing your wrath upon those noisy neighbors of yours who seem to spend all day and night practicing the goddamn banjo while talking in Mandarin Chinese/Greek? Have you recently considered walking into a Starbucks and ordering the white chocolate mint latte with triple foam at the hottest temperature, asking for the name to be “FUCK YOU” and then dumping the whole works over your head in order to FEEL ANYTHING AT ALL. Fear not my good fellows. You are not alone.
If the winter blahs have a good hold on your soul, allow me to the Doctor and your prescription is a long prolonged toke from the bong, and some Bathory. STAT.
K also. Let’s be real here. A lot of the little friendly oogle angels that I have previously rallied so hard against like to wear the eponymous goat patch of the great Bathory on their adorable little studded vests, but the fact is, if you asked those fuck sticks for their favourite song, they wouldn’t be able to pony (goat?) up with the goods and thats because they suck and are terrible.
Also, if someone claims to be a metal fan and doesn’t like Bathory, you definitely have my permission to just not talk to them anymore. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life. I mean unless their sister is really hot and has huge jammers she likes to post on Instagram and you aren’t totally sure if she’d let you see them in person or not.. and like yeah I guess if the guy has good weed or makes moonshine you could keep talking to them, but remember – every time you take a toke of that poisoned plant, you would feel the bitter aftertaste of an unbeliever.
Alright, I’m ranting, I’ve been smoking a lot of high grade medical weed lately and blissing out to this stuff and really wishing I had cool acid washed jeans. A girl can dream.
Enjoy and until next time little friends, never trust an oogle, and when in doubt always take that extra bong toke.
One man rode the way through the woods
Down to Asa Bay
Where dragon ships had sailed to sea
More times than one could say
To see with own eyes the wonder
People told, from man to man
The God of all almightiness
Had arrived from a foreign land
The rumors told of a man
Who had come from the other side the seas
Carrying gold cross around neck in chain
And spoke in strange tongue of peace
He had come with strange men in armor
Dressed in purple shirts and lace
Smelling not of beer but flowers
And with no hair in face
And the bold man carrying cross
Had told all one of Asa Bay
The God of all man, woman, child had come
To them all save
And to thank Lord of Heaven
One should build to God a house
And to save one’s soul from Hell
One should be baptized and say vows
A man of pride with the hammer told new God
To build his house on own
And spoke loud of the Gods of their fathers
Not too long time gone
The rumors said the man with a beard like fire
And the hammer in chain
By men in armor silenced was and by
Their swords was slain
Those who did not pay the one coin
Of four to man of new God
Whipped was twenty and put in chains then locked
By their neck to the log, to the log
And so all of Asa Bay did build
A house of the cross
Every hour of daylight they did sweat
Limbs ached because faith does cost
And on the day two hundred
There it stood white to the sky
The house of the God of the cross
Big enough to take two dragon ships inside
And all of Asa Bay did watch
The wonder raise to the sky
Now must the God of the cross be pleased
And satisfied
Just outside the circle of the crowd
One old man did stand
He looked across the waters
And blotted the sun out of his eyes with one hand
And his old eyes could almost see
The dragon ships set sail
And his old ears could almost hear
Men of great numbers call out Oden’s hail
And though he did know already
Though he turned face towards sky
And whispered silent words forgotten
Spoken only way up high
Now this house of a foreign God does stand
Now must they leave us alone
Still he heard from somewhere in the woods
Old crow of wisdom say
“People of Asa land, it’s only just begun”