DAY 22 You single-chambered revolvers,

DAY 22

You single-chambered revolvers,
It’s Monday, but this is the music world. That means that instead of coming out of the bullpen with sleep in our eyes, our limbs half-numb from a weekend of hibernation and recovery, and determining that a bunt is the only reasonable way to meet the workweek’s opening pitch — instead of doing, in other words, what the rest of you did today, we decided to step up to the plate and swing. GodDAMN it went well!
Rob was in rare form, which he managed, paradoxically, by acting normal. Here he is a couple of hours into the afternoon, a few seconds after his third or fourth wind deserted him:

Okay, Rob just saw us creating this post and requested that no more pictures of him drunk ‘n’ passed out appear on this website, or at the very least on today’s post. We explained to him that for reasons of osmosis, his wish is unlikely to be granted: there are only a couple hundred pictures of Rob passed out drunk on the internet right now, but there are thousands, thousands, on our computer. Those pictures are bound to find their way from this cramped harddrive into the spacious fields of the world wide web. Nevertheless, a promise was made, and we will of course abide by it.
Here is a picture taken at the studio about an hour after the last one, but this is maybe some other guy :

We’ve never formally introduced Ariel Rechtshaid, our producer, to you guys, so we’d like to do that now in the form of a short but comprehensive pictorial montage:

Ariel’s showing you his favorite column from Big Black Butt magazine there: “Ms. Powerbosom BUTTS IN”. Here’s a good quote: “Those of you who follow my adventures monthly know that my hearty appetite for sex has gotten me into quite a few interesting situations. [paragraph break] Last night, I was hungry and ordered a pizza.” Needless to say, shit gets CRAZY from there. Fast-forward a couple of paragraphs: “I opened my eyes to find the window washer in my room, kneeling between my legs.” And from there, you must believe that shit just gets absolutely crazy.
Okay, sorry for that tangent. Seriously, we’re a bit fascinated by Big Black Butt right now. It’s pretty amazing. But we totally realize that it has nothing to do with the new We Are Scientists album, which is what we’re supposed to be dishing about here, so, y’know, sorry. Let’s get back to the important stuff.

Tomorrow: amps and guitar tone! As addressed covertly in the pages of Big Black Butt!