Strain Review: Eran Almog
Friday, 5:07 pm. I slip down and from the dinosaur that is metaphoric and jump into my form of Fred Flintstone’s vehicle. My head still cluttered through the That was, I barely notice my commute home and end up in the garage week magically.
The threshold is crossed by me of castle, drop my keys into the bowl (no, I’m maybe maybe not visit the website headed up to a 70s key party, we keep our secrets in a bowl, OK?), start up my Vans, kiss my spouse, then it is heard by me.
My bong is calling me personally.
Oh there’s no real tune or sound, but I’m able to guarantee you, Pipi Bongstocking talks in my experience on many amounts. Continue reading “Strain Review: Eran Almog”