10 Notes
This Is How I Picture An Antony & The Johnsons Concert
One person sits on a rusty folding chair in an abandoned grade-school parking lot, while a filthy, beat-up ice cream truck slowly circles him, blaring “Ghost” through its tinny speaker. Every once in a while Antony slides open the serving window, revealing that he’s executing a Jame Gumb-style penile tuck maneuver and wearing a shorty robe made of over-tanned old-lady skin. Just as your eyes go wide in horror, he wails, “Stop staring, meatface!” at you through a megaphone shaped like a clown’s head, shoots you with a squirt gun full of balsamic vinegar, then returns to his performance without missing a beat.
This goes on for fifteen hours.
Replies
Likes
-
stephenfalk liked this
-
james-sykora liked this
-
thelistenerd liked this
-
elvira liked this
-
billbradley liked this
-
royalbankofmcdinc liked this
-
daveshumka liked this
-
creeperstatus liked this
-
hatethefuture liked this
-
lindsayrobertson liked this
-
marklisanti posted this
