Listen to God and everything will be alright.

Listen to your Mother and everything will be alright.

Listen to the Earth and everything will be alright.

Listen to MGMT and everything will be alright.

Listen to your Friends and everything will be alright.

Listen to Yourself and everything will be alright.

Listen.

Listen.

Listen.




Hear.

Fordcast

The forecast for tomorrow:

a *.s.p.r.i.n.k.l.e.* of genius with a chance of DOOM!

Ka-boom!

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KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
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KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!
KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!KA-BOOM!

Weird...

I was driving down the freeway in the fast lane with a rabid wolverine in my underwear when suddenly a guy behind me in the backsear popped right up and put his hands across my eyes. I said is it Uncle Frank or cousin Louie, is it Bob or Joe or Walter, could it be Bill or Sue or Ed or Vernie or Steve? I probably would have kept on guessing but about that time we crashed into the truck, and as I'm lying bleeding there on the asphalt finally i recongnise the face of my hibachi dealer who takes off his prostetic lips and tells me.

Everything you know is wrong. Black is white, up is down , and short is long, and everything you thought was just so important doesn't matter.
I was walking into the kitchen for some Golden Grams when I accidently stepped into an alternate demention and then I was abducted by some aliens whose faces kinda looked like Jamie Farr. They sucked out my internal organs and they took some polariods and said I was a darn good sport, and as a way of saying thank you they offered to transport me back to any place in history that I would care to go. So I had them send me back to last Thursday night so I could pay my phone bill on time, just as the flaoating disembodeied head of Cornel Saunders started yelling.

Everything you know is wrong. Black is white, up is down , and short is long, and everything you thought was just so important doesn't matter.
I was just about to mail a letter to my evil twin when I got a nasty paper cut and, to make a long story short, it got infected and I died. So now I'm up in heaven with St. Peter by the Pearly Gates and it's obious he doesn't like the Nero jacket that I'm wearing, he tells me that they've got a dress code, but he lets me into heaven anyway but I get the room next to the noisy Ice machine for all eterity and every day he runs by screaming.
Everything you know is wrong. Black is white, up is down , and short is long, and everything you thought was just so important doesn't matter.