Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Hails, warbrethren. With the Bloomingtonian and Eyehategod campaigns behind us, it is now time to turn earnest attention to stockpiling new riffery for the next album and future endeavors. As such, don't expect to hear nary a peep from us for a few months on the live front, as that shit simply isn't happening. Writing is our main focus, to maximize the frozen tundra that is Indianapolis, and its effects on us in summoning proper invocations.
The Eyehategod show was a HUGE success, and we can't be thankful enough for a chance to open for one of the few bands all Coffinworm members call an influence and legends. We appreciate all for attendance, those who gave praise, those who gave indifference, and all of those that bought shit. Also hails to Goatwhore and our 260 brethren Daisycutter for sharing the bill, as well as to Adam Walker and Jared Southwick for booking the show. Infinite hails to our good friend Mahlon (and congrats on the impending nuptials) for making the trek and sharing some laughs. This was a show we won't ever forget, and definitely in the Drunkenworm top 3.
Conversely, we must praise Wolfey and all of Slam Dunk for the excellent time they showed us in Bloomington, as well as all of the locals who just came out and basically stared at us. SD took care of us, and all was well; but you hipsters who stand their with your fashionable, and brittle, little arms crossed but then gobble up merchandise leave us all confounded. Thanks? Also hails to Charnel House for sharing the bill.
Merch is still available through the usual outlets. Lps are almost extinct, but the Cd lives on in perpetuity via us or Profound Lore. We also have some pretty cool backpatches of the Start Saving... shirt print that are available from us for $6 plus postage, in addition to the logo patches. We will have some new shirt designs in the new year, as well as a slew of live assaults to advertise. Until then, drown in silence.
As usual, thanks to all supporters and warbringers. Haters: please don't type so loud in the basement at night whilst on message boards. We ARE right upstairs after all, and all of that clatter detracts from our perfectly-timed thrusts in your fat mammy's asshole.
And to the local hater who wanted to sign us, but was denied, and wanted to book us, and was denied: your side-ways slander only shows the lack of girth between your legs, and the lack of fortitude of your non-existent thought-process. We're sorry mommy didn't love you. When you're dead no one will miss you, save for our rancid ejaculates decomposing on your headstone.