Sweet. Bleeding. Jesus.
Sure…you found me out. Kimberlin, Schmalfeldt, Grace and I sit in Kimberlin’s bunker and recording studio deep in an undisclosed location (under Hoge’s house, this being the last place he’d ever look for us) hashing out our talking points and strategies we’re going to use against you, Hoge, in-between recording sessions about our unrequited love of all things underage girls (Readers: I’ll explain this in the next blog).
While jamming out chord progressions one afternoon on our upcoming song “Old Enough To Bleed” off our upcoming album “Pretend It’s A Big Lollypop, Sweetie“, Brett and I hit upon a marvellous idea where we would log onto anonymous servers and mail ourselves death threats pretending that they came from people we didn’t like, most notably you and your anonymous shithead Flying Monkey Brigades.
It was completely untraceable, plausibly deniable and best of all – nobody could prove a damn thing.
Well, so we thought until that meddling Dee in Houston totally uncovered our scheme.
Well…shit. Boys, we’ve been made.
And if you and your cult believe a word of any of this, Hoge:
You’re just as stupid as I’ve always known you were.
The mockery continues…