Wednesday, July 30, 2014


Mr. Dad. G'damn!

We posed one question to one of our favorite out-of-towners...

It's time to party, DAD STYLE! *breaks out pressed button-up shirt*

Fill in the blank: Mr. Dad is ________________.

Arvin: absurd and stupid like continuing to pick your nose after the blood has begin run into your mouth. But! Hit that shit with glitter! Problem Solved!

Zach: pulling the car around. Get ready to leave and put your shoes on.

Chris: A band. Opps I meant A bad*. Opppzz I meant a group of bad people*. WHOOOPS what I am trying to say is that Mr.Dad is composed of four lowlife pig children in boy suits thinking the can pull shits, that should only be given, from people by 1.HATING MUSIC (All of us fucking HATE music except for the following bands- 3 Doors Down feat Bob Seger, Sheryl Crow, Sheryl Crow feat Kid Rock, and Will Smith, Post "Big Willie Style") 2. By being real genuine piles of garbage (Who forgot to take the trash to the curb, move that load from the washer to the dryer? Oh what's that, we need a ride to the liquor store? And can you swing us through a drive threw, plus we don't get paid until fucking never so could you spot us?). 3. We physically cannot bring ourselves to give a shit about any of this. This isn't some "tough guy" not giving a shit...shit. Its more like we're just losers. Losers who suck. The only thing that concerns us are the orange, cheeto stained fingerprints at the scene of your bong crimezzz in the back of Dad's tool shed.


Mr. Dad plays Saturday night at The Mule Skinner. See it to believe it!


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