Rock Out! Three Pigeons Who Know How To Party!
Welcome to fuck town Reader! Grab your designated driver and start pre-gaming because tonight, the pigeons are running shit! We have some aviary CLASSICS coming out to party like there's no tomorrow, and with these guys, there might not be!
Woah! This shitty venue somehow finagled Kyle the Drummer Bird! You can see where he holds his drumsticks (it's his wings) so that he can play that funky music for you, white boy. Jam that freaky tune, Kyle!
Oh shit dude, is that fucking Derek? Bro, that dude ROCKS the strat!! That feather winged fiend's on one sick ass six-stringed seductress! What's he here for? For the band, baby. For the thrill of the ride. Surf that rock riff, D-bomb.
Bro. Scruffjunk. Rocking the bass. Tearing up those lyrics. Taking the music and making it his bitch. His BITCH! You thought you could make the best group in the world with just Kyle and Derek? You can try, man, but with Scruffjunk in the mix? You better hop in your 2006 Nissan Altima, go to a Target, or a Meijer, honestly it doesn't fucking matter, the only thing that matters now is trying to get enough lawn chairs for all those goddamn people that are gonna be pulling up to watch this dude rule the night. Sing it, biggie. Sing it.
Reader, I would like to congratulate you on dragging yourself through the bushels of mental razor wire that is this article. You did it! I don't know why though, it's just gonna be the same bullshit next week, like don't break your back with this one if you're planning on coming back. Good luck, Reader, I'll see you next week!