You know how it feels when it’s nine in the afternoon, and your eyes are the size of the moon?
Yeah, I know that feeling.
One time, I had taken 60 million acid tabs and was spelunking off Mt. Vesuvius. Boy were my eyes big! Whoosh!
Then, another time, I had created cheese out of nought but my imagination and some lint. Except that time, it was more like 8.29 in the afternoon.
Anyway, the most recent freak-fest occurred the sad, soborous day that Panic! At The Disco’s exclamation mark went missing. It mark-o poloed. It panicked itself out of the disco, down the street, and into Chk Chk Chk’s cupboard (just in case).
Why for? You may interrobang that indeed. (for the reference, henceforth, an interrobang is either an intelligent question OR a smart shagfest). (same diff?)
According to Rolling Stone: In news that is sure to be a relief for copy editors worldwide, a rep for Panic! at the Disco has confirmed that the band will hereafter be known as Panic at the Disco.
Hey, I am a copy editor (yep, editor ok) and it does not relieve me whatsoever. Unless by relieve you mean, make pee trickle out in disgust.
Elsewhere, I read that P!@TD committed this rash act of punctuation murder because they were “sick of it”.
Like, how everyone gets sick of cats? Or the way lots of lesbians get sick of being lesbians? I NEED MORE! WHAT DID THE BANG DO TO YOU, Jon Walker, Ryan Ross, Brendon Urie and Spencer Smith? (Although there’s some nice use of alliteration PS you guys).
Luckily, you emo-munchkins do dapper so good, it hurts. Plus, the lead singer has a mouth you just wanna stick things in. Choco-bananas, for instance.
Never have I seen a fly-er photo shoot. Panic GO THERE. I just wanna know, why can’t they take the bang with them? Or at least bang me to make up for it? (that’s rhetorical).
And for the second reference, P!@TD did freaky clown-chic before Brian McFadden was born. Which incidentally, was out of Delta’s vagina. Weird, I know.
In conclusion, I’d like to return to the words I recited last time-slip:
Back to the street where we began (down-town Vegas, whelped by 2-bit whores, props to you all)
Feeling as good as lovers can, you know (I wish I knew!)
Yeah we’re feeling so good (Ghnnghnnhhgnnnggh stop sticking prongy sweets in my mouth ghghnngn!)
Pickin’ up things we shouldn’t read (garden implements, pieces of wool)
It looks like the end of history as we know (that was a quick 40 minutes!)
It’s just the end of the world (so motherfucking put the ! back in okay! God doesn’t like inconsistency in his emos!)
** News in. Exclamation point available for hire. Has dabbled with soft-cock-rock, angry grrl pop (you know P!NK? – yeah, that was him), various billboards, and can tap dance. Is prepared to meld with the right question mark for a deeply meaningful interrobang. Contact this blog for further details **