So then, are you sitting conformably in comfort? Have you scotch guarded your jodhpurs and oiled your pelvis? NO? Then brace yoursen for a sonic boon, a tranquil cacophony, an alchemic fiddling of the vibratic marriage. For from the swamp will blossom the lotus and from your stereo, half a dozen canticles from the group that buckles more swash than Black Beard after a Rum Baba. You might not like it, but then people pretend not to like grapes when the vines are too high for them to reach, no danger. Continue reading Werewolf Cocktails →