I like narwhals. Especially jimmy the magic narwhal. I am in love with Destery Moore. I have no life.
Turns out it’s just band kids being band kids.
- wet reed
- put together instrument
- sell your soul to Satan
- blow air
If you’re in band, then you can understand the insane shit that us band kids do for no apparent reason. But anyhow, there’s this horrible fucking smell in our band locker room.
And at first, I was told that it was a fish taco left in one of our drum major’s lockers, and he wouldn’t take it out of the fucking locker or something along those lines. Nope.
Not only was there a fish taco in a locker, but this is what our other drum major has announced:
Welcome to my fucking band.
Especially when I am at my sound board and their mother fucking tuba’s and clarinets are screeching into my headset that intensives sounds. Not to mention the parents that whistle for a whole minute. Yeah, my ears are bleeding. Thanks.
I’ve never heard tuba screech