I am not a very consistent man. I am noble in thought, weak in action. Thankfully, Weekend Nachos are consistent. You can always rely on them to shit directly into the chasm of your ill-tempered soul, sub-human. Death to all your whimsy and flip-flops. I fucking hate flip-flops… I mean, you have no human versatility in those fucking things, you can only stand there with a sloppy grin on your face as a cool breeze passes over those crusty fucking toes. I am going to start a steal-toe gang; Our sole mission will be to stomp on your shitty feet.
I digress, that little diatribe was genuine. It was genuine because I am listening to Weekend Nachos Apology at uncomfortably loud volumes. I'm not even having fun, but I am enjoying myself. Know what I mean?
Unfortunately these dudes from Chicago are splitting the sheets, calling it quits, divorcing, moving on to bigger and heavier things, separating, breaking up. It's done, so enjoy this last album and go to their last shows. Bring your flip-flops.
Weekend Nachos Apology
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