Can't find a scan to save my shirt, so you'll have to go without. Pip Proud cannot occupy a world that has any kind of Internet. When his generator's broken, he runs the tape recorder off his car battery. I'm just guessing here, but something tells me when you drive by his shack at night, you can see the light from inside coming through the slats.
I'm going to get right to the point because I don't want to drench this in any more of my tired verbal jizz. This seven-inch is ACE. I'm so happy to drop 4 bucks on a 7" no one cares about that turns out to be the most beautiful thing I've heard lately. I'm bypassing the musical recipe because 4 seconds into this you will forget what other music sounds like. Pip Proud delivers the meaningless life-lesson talks that other old folk love to spout, but his tone is telling. He's not buying it, either, chief. And that's the ultimate lesson: you're not listening, you're living. You're living because one day it will all be dusty bits. The only stories left to tell will be one's from your days as a wee like "Hey Gus, is God really made of love?" told with the exhaustion of a life overscrutinized.
You want this because it does not belong on the Internet. As a matter of fact, I posted this 4 times before it worked. Wasn't Pip in Brother's Keeper?
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