I was chillin' on the digital leash last night with my Hyde Park GSB homie Bondmaster BK, and he dropped a rap floating around his gim homebase: Flat is the New Up.
He and his korporate krew have made big-bad giving sweet taste of 30 forty 50 cent per. You do that and the burbpunks come begging for more. Please baby baby please.
Now burbsters are hooked, nutting on a derivative jones. Need it, want it, gotta have it. Subpunkhookedsters ain't got rhyme or rhythm, just reason. Can't tell if the George W was a bum, a bridge, or a buck. History slam. Can't tell if it is up. Can't tell if it is down. BYOI. Bring your own "it".
Flatlined. Zombie Power. The End of History is nigh'.
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