: Ebay people, thank you so very much. We have enough money to
: -i worry- tshirt people, the shirts were hella delayed getting to us and most have been posted out, the rest are going out on Monday too.
- this guy here is called Herio Braker, and he's the magic guardian of our new recordings. He's been hanging out at our studio the last few days and we've been charging his sigil with the power of awesome loud guitar pop. You too can help us out here, look into his eyes, focus your happy thoughts on the sign he's holding, and he's spew those vibes over our new songs in the next week:
 |
| he can see you thru the screen because he is magic. |
- also, we're going to make another shirt, for th UK tour. What colour should we use, we are awful at this. TELL US PLEASE.
- also also, recording makes for long hours late at night spent listening to each other play the same thing over and over again. so, one last favour, if you could all write your very bestest jokes in the comment box below, that would ease us thru the nights greatly.
thank youuuuuuu
xox
28 comments:
Tshirt should be blue, not too dark but not too light either.
Also:
What do you call a fake noodle?
An impasta.
What's the similarity between a grape and an elephant?
They're both purple, except for the elephant.
Let's stay away from cuisine jokes, there are just too many pastabilities.
The vast majority of my t-shirts are now red. Or, y'know, white. It's time to think outside the box. I say pale green.
There's hardly any green band t-shirts, which means when other fans are drunk around the city they'll see one at a distance and think PROBS JOFO FAN and it'll hasten the bonding.
why did the baker have brown hands? because he kneaded a poo.
So there was this kid who, for as long as he could remember, loved tractors. This was a little odd,, since he had never actually seen a tractor - he lived in the city, far away from any farmyards or country roads - yet he had posters all over his walls, photos glued into schoolbooks. He couldn't explain it, rationalise it; somewhere deep inside, he simply had an abiding passion for tractors.
The years went by, and the kid got older, all the while pining for a chance to see a real-life tractor. Then, one serendipitous Autumn day, he came across an advert in the local paper: TRACTOR SHOW, TOMORROW! He could hardly believe it. At long last, he could see a tractor, touch it, maybe even get into one.
The next day he was a bundle of excited energy. He barely slept the day before, but that didn't curb his enthusiasm one iota. Once he was inside the convention centre, he didn't know what to do with himself. Tractors: big, small, old, new, electric, diesel, steam-powered; all were there, right in front of him, as they had been on his walls, on his notebooks, in his heart.
He strolled along between each of the magnificent machines, his eyes widened, his heart beat faster and faster, until he came to it: a large, red, triumphant tractor, the most powerful in its class. He looked around, saw no-one to stop him. He took his chance. He opened the door at the side of the tractor and put his foot on the step up to it.
"Excuse me." A security guard appeared from behind a cardboard cut-out of the tractor, designed to illustrate the tractor it was stood next to.
"Yes?" said the kid.
"You can't get in the tractors."
"What?"
"The tractors are not for sitting in."
"What if I want to buy it?" The kid replied hopefully. The security guard ruefully shook his head.
The kid's shoulder slumped and he sulked off from the big red tractor.
Further down the convention hall, he came across another tractor: smaller, yes, but no less shiny, no less beautifully designed, and this time in a beautiful shade of sky blue. He took his chances again, but as a soon as his hand reached for the handle: "Look, I understand you're a big fan of tractors, but you really cannot get inside of them," the guard explained again, "I'm sorry."
The kid skulked off once more, hands in pockets, tears in his eyes. He spied a final chance: a dark green, vintage, steam-powered tractor in the corner, being ignored by the assembled exhibitors and farmers. He crept, slowly and silently, around it, to the door at the side, when he was grabbed from behind.
"Look, I've warned you!" the guard shouted over the kid's protests as he dragged him from the hall.
He was tossed out onto the street and notified he was barred from this, or any future, tractor convention.
The kid ran home, tears streaming down his face, his heart almost audibly breaking in two. He tore down the tractor posters from his walls, he threw out his notebooks, he cancelled his membership to the Tractor Owners Association, which had been a fraud anyway.
As the kid grew up, the empty space left in his heart was filled by the bottle.
One day, he was sat in his local, on his third pint. The Smoking Ban had just come into effect. And yet, the barman was struggling to breath amongst the fog produced by a group of smokers in the corner.
"I wish I could do something about them," he said, nodding to the twelve-strong group of large, strong-looking men.
"Well, tell them."
"Have you seen the size of them?" the landlord asked.
"Right, I'll handle this," said the former kid, getting to his feet. He strolled up to the group, who suddenly stopped laughing to look up at the man child before them.
The former kid took a deep breath, his pigeon chest concave, and in doing so all the smoke from the room disappeared into his lungs with a great WOOSH that put out the cigarettes with its ferocity.
The group of smokers stayed silent, dumbfounded by what they'd just seen. The kid returned to the bar.
"What on Earth was that?" asked the landlord. The kid licked his lips after a swig of his pint.
"Oh well, y'know," he explained, "I'm an ex-tractor fan."
green pls
What happened when Jesus went to mount olive?
Popeye beat him up
What did Johnny Foreigner say when they got to the playground?
'Choose your slide and shut up'
how did the barber win the race? he knew a sort cut. what do you call a tree full of apes? an ape-le tree. how does a skeleton call his friends? on a tele-bone. WHY DID THE ONE-HANDED MAN CROSS THE ROAD? TO GET TO THE SECOND HAND SHOP. WHY DID THE STRAWBERRY GO ON A DATE WITH A PLUMB? BECAUSE HE COULDN'T FIND A DATE.
also, that tractor joke was terrible.
how did the barber win the race? he knew a short cut. what do you call a tree full of apes? an ape-le tree. how does a skeleton call his friends? on a tele-bone. WHY DID THE ONE-HANDED MAN CROSS THE ROAD? TO GET TO THE SECOND HAND SHOP. WHY DID THE STRAWBERRY GO ON A DATE WITH A PLUMB? BECAUSE HE COULDN'T FIND A DATE.
also, that tractor joke was terrible.
A man walks into a bar. He is an alcoholic and it's destroying his family. :)
What time does Sean connery get to Wimbledon at?
Tennish.
I vote black. Or grey. Or cream. Creeeeeam.
A guy and his giraffe go to a bar together. They both drink way too much and stay way too late. The giraffe eventually passes out at the bar and as the man begins to leave the bartender says "Hey! You! You can't leave that lying there!"
Confused, the man turns around and says "that isn't a lion! It's a giraffe!"
I vote black. Or grey. Or cream. Creeeeeam.
A guy and his giraffe go to a bar together. They both drink way too much and stay way too late. The giraffe eventually passes out at the bar and as the man begins to leave the bartender says "Hey! You! You can't leave that lying there!"
Confused, the man turns around and says "that isn't a lion! It's a giraffe!"
I vote black. Or grey. Or cream. Creeeeeam.
A guy and his giraffe go to a bar together. They both drink way too much and stay way too late. The giraffe eventually passes out at the bar and as the man begins to leave the bartender says "Hey! You! You can't leave that lying there!"
Confused, the man turns around and says "that isn't a lion! It's a giraffe!"
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why did the baker have brown hands? because he kneaded a poo.
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