Roy G. Biv

We hereby introduce you to our current zany multimedia extravaganza:

1) A new song called "Tarantula Type" available for download on the Comadre Mixtape #3 joint. It, too, will be on our new record. Here are the lyrics:

"Tarantula Type"

This sickness that's inside of me

Ain't a sickness that's easy to see

No rash, no runs, no potpourri

Of symptoms

Of woes

No bloody stool

No bloody nose

Just cause you can't see it's there

Don't mean that that shit isn't there

Stitched into this birthday suit

Oh grandmother, how I miss you

Like a banshee

Sid and Nancy

My double helix is coming unglued

It's in your blood

It clogs your veins

Eats your gorgeous brains

And it will drag you straight to your grave

Quick

A head in the clouds

Is a foot in the grave

A head in the clouds

Is a foot in the grave

But a foot in the grave is where I'd rather be

If a head in the clouds means I'm sick

I'm not sick

You're the one that's sick

Rick, serve me my goddamn breakfast.

2) A new song called "Stay-At-Home Mom" is also up for your viewing pleasure in full RGB glory. It, too, will be on the new record. The video and lyrics for that song are as follows:

"Stay-At-Home Mom"

Why didn't you kill yourself today?

What cross, what coupon, what cathode ray

Put the joie de vivre in your diseased heart?

How Anne Hathaway,

How Peg Bundy

Thou art.

Hey Sugar:

Prove to me that the air you breathe

Wasn't better served by the leaves of a tree.

You're but a breeder,

Tax break receiver

With menopause sweats

A TV tray and a mosh pit son

Who wastes the marrow of his bones

Jumping into these drums.

Please tell him:

Don't stand so close to me.

See, I know your children

Because I've been your children

And us children, hopeful children

Ain't worth the stretch marks baby.

'Cause we may sing these songs of protest,

Cast our ballots, too

Forgo meat and

Ride our bikes and

Get our band's stupid tattoo

But it means nothing - nothing - when we get eaten by the sun.

Que sera

Que sera

For, whatever there is will soon be all gone.

So what's wrong

With a song

That asks wherefore and why have you lived this long?

A purpose?

You want a reason?

Stop believing.

Or stop needing the answers.

There are no answers

Except the sun, the sun, the sun.

While you sit on your couch

And wait up for your boy

We're polluting his mind with this

(noise)

3) Our good friend Alvin keep getting us confused with No Doubt, but he is very good with his camera so we will allow it. Click his name if you enjoy this fine example:

4) Please go to shows at the Olhar de Vidro. And be aware: this place is going to blow up into a cornucopia of goodwill. Or: a horn of plenty of community goodness. Your pick. Stay tuned.

5) All signs point to a one-day-only stream of the new record ASAP. Beware. Also, Vitriol site is updated.

6) King James.

Write what you want to read,

Al