Who knew that a bit of darkness would be such a bother for a bunch of goats?
Not “the” Jew, but “a” Jew, though c’mon, there really aren’t that many members of the Tribe in the Sooner State.
Imagine the song “Black Myself.” Imagine me, a white guy, singing “Black Myself” with the windows rolled down. Imagine me rolling the windows up because I feel like I don’t deserve to sing “Black Myself.” Anyways, good song.
An album so stricken with grief that I can’t bring myself to make a witty smartass remark about it here.
A title that supposes normal has ever been normal, though of course nothing is even close to whatever passes as normal, so it’s a wash.