Yeeeeeeeeeehaw!!! Look up there in the sky, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! What do you see? Do you see ghost riders? YIIIIPPPIIIEEEEE YIIIIYOOOOOO YIIIIPPPPIIIIEEEE YIIIIIIIYAAAAAAAAAA!!! *ahem* What’s that? Oh, don’t mind me as I howl Johnny Cash into the abyss and no, it’s not just the moonshine talking. Yes, you should be concerned, but pull up … Continue reading
“Fell in love with a rider,” sings Orville Peck in a soft yet sonorous tone after three deep echoing guitar notes in his song “Big Sky.” Peck continues, “Dirt king, black crown. Six months on a knucklehead hog. I like him best when he’s not around.” With that insertion of the pronoun “he,” “Big Sky,” … Continue reading
Phew! I don’t know about you, dearest Filthy Dreams readers, but I’m exhausted. This week has been one hell of a doozy. Between Ivanka rubbing her dirty ass feet on seminal art installations by Yayoi Kusama to Trump firing and tweet-threatening Comey to Sean Spicer hiding in the bushes, I feel like I’ve aged a … Continue reading