Thursday, April 10, 2008

Hyper Crush Me

Holly Valentine toyed with my emotions yet again, pulling the puppet strings, her control over me verified by the massive stage bruise on my lower quad muscle, one which became the size of a softball. It must’ve meant Hyper Crush played at the Malibu Inn.

I was either a hemophiliac or under the spell of Ms. Valentine. Infectious sounds became dangerous, sending my body into synchronized movements, the type that take task to trollops nightly.

I’d also had a lot on my mind, aside from nightly adventures unhindered, like my recent work for the Laeken Collection and my run for president. Roxie, Wayne Maxwell and Bernadette Bender joined my press towards the front, a success we never take for granted among the rude pushers, sweat-dripping stinkers and spillers. Women tend to smell nicer. Bathing isn’t optional, a slant I wholly agree with. The people of Malibu aren’t immune to rancid fragrances, and by being up front, we effectively cut our chances of finding poor hygiene by at least 50%. Holly agrees.

Hyper Crush’s new ripping single, “Boom Box,” is a track sure to make my best of 2008, the kind of ear candy I'll gladly blast on PCH. The preposterously addictive flows, coupled with the performance art in their live act, are a deadly combination rarely pulled off so well. Their musical originality is exceptional, and the following has exponentially expanded to far reaches, a fact demonstrated by severe lack of parking outside and an upcoming tour supporting their great new album "The Arcade." It helps when you’re able to routinely produce good songs.

Holly has her many suitors, as evidenced by the slobbering glances aimed in her direction, especially during the pre-game show put on by amateurs in comparison. The wonder of her appeal is something she’ll never lose.

Donnie Fontaine, the golden boy of The San Fernando Valley, can cook up savory lyrics with the best of them, tempered by the musical wizardry of the finest wedding DJ of all-time, the peerless Preston Moronie, who sported the Terminator T proud.

He’s the greatest crate digger since Pete Rock, DJ Shadow or Premier, simply the sickest. Hyper Crush is everyone’s new favorite band.

I’ve been asked numerous times by the Inner Circle dwellers whether I would turn down an advance by Holly Valentine. There’s a level of political correctness that comes with a serious presidential campaign, something my unworthy challengers tend to practice freely and recklessly without care. The American people are smart; they don’t fall for silly tricks. So to answer the question definitively, absolutely not. I bear that in mind, knowing her mystical powers in conjuring spirits can be harmful to less resilient species.


Anonymous said...

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