(Would you wanna run into these dudes in a dark alley? I think Phro would. Yes, we have a guest-review from the tentacle master hisself. Which means that if you have children, they need to be locked up in the next county before you read this. And if you don’t have children, well just write that off the list of your life goals. My anus feels raw just reading this.)
The red glow of the alarm clock filled my room like an over-sized cock slapping you in the face. It wouldn’t go away, and it wouldn’t let you forget that it was there. And it kind of made my head hurt.
I closed my eyes again and rubbed them—wait. Why were my hands covered in warm…liquid. Oh, god, I thought, not a-fucking-gain…what the hell happened here??
I slowly rolled onto my belly and felt something poking my hip. It felt squishy. I assumed that was not good. After sighing dejectedly, I pushed myself to my feet and attempted to find the light switch. The moment light bathed the room I vomited like a dog chewing on grass.
Let’s back up 24 minutes. (more after the jump . . . oh yes . . . much, much more)
I had spent the night drinking whiskey and searching for vintage tentacle porn. (You know, the kind with nasty bush, so it looks like Fidel Castro deep throating a snake.) After my search became more and more futile, I turned to Bandcamp for entertainment. I briefly considered searching for “tentacle rape rap”, but that seemed just too…obvious. So, instead, I searched for “brutal deathgrind”.
It was a suggestion search from Bandcamp, and I thought, at first, that bandcamp was just fucking with me. (I swear, that motherfucker is watching me or something. I’m convinced Bandcamp follows me around during the day, watching me from bus windows and jerking off into a tiny plastic bag so it can sniff it alone at night and finger its anus. Fuck you, Bandcamp, I’m fucking on to you…) Oh, but how wrong I was!
Brutal deathgrind is a real tag on Bandcamp. And, I soon found out, ANALDICKTION is a real band on Bandcamp from Singapore. Yah, Singapore. Right now, you’re wondering why that sounds familiar. And since you have to wonder and don’t fucking know immediately, you now get twenty minutes in the cock and ball torture chair.
MOTHERGODDAMNDOGRAPINGPENISSTABBINGFUCKING WORMROT!!! THAT’S WHY GODDAMN SINGAPORE SOUND FAMILIAR!!!
So, here’s a band who claims to be brutally, grindy, deathy, and Singaporey. That sounds like a recipe for awesome anal-leakage-causing music. And one glance at their cover proved I couldn’t be wrong. So, I paid my $5 and got me some high-bit-rate MP3s! A few minutes later, I imported my shiny new music and pressed…
I was still vomiting, but now it was just stomach acid and little chunks of two-week-old corn. After I finally got my gagging under control, I looked around the room. Bodies lay in various poses and states of ecstatic agony. It was like an orgy of zombie lesbians and robot tentacle sex slaves had finally just died of exhaustion and hunger. Shit, I was gonna have to move again. Goddamnit.
Then…THEN…then, one of the zombie-lesbian-looking shapes gurgled. I froze. Terror was not the thing that gripped my heart, but rather terror’s large, uglier, more toothy older brother. My heart somehow managed to freeze in place while my blood ran every way it possibly could.
She sat up, and I was disturbed to see that a large part of my blood seemed to have pooled in my penis at the sight of her full—though somewhat rotted—breasts. Her left eye rolled around inside of her head like a marble, but her right eye fixed itself on me. I’ve never seen an eye smile before, but hers did. Slowly, sexily (but disgustingly), she stood up. Her fangs were visible through the holes in her face. Terror’s brother was now gone—replaced with confusion. The lips she had left were extremely sexy…but those teeth…
“Hey, there, buddy, can ya’ spare me a cigarette?”
“Whaaaaaaa…?” My brain was functioning significantly more slowly than usual due to improper blood flow.
“A cigarette…oh, nevermind. Goddamn living asshole. You’ll fuck a zombie girl, but you won’t give her a goddamn cigarette,” she mumbled under her breath.
“S…sorry, I don’t smoke,” I sputtered out dejectedly. This must be what a fish feels like when it gets thrown back.
She grunted, and kicked one of the girls nearest to her. This one was missing half of her face and her left forearm was nothing but bone. She gurgled, too, but eventually went about the process of waking up. She cast me a cute look, but didn’t bother to say anything.
Soon, the girls were all up, adjusting body parts here and hair there. They generally ignored me, except for the first girl, who would occasionally shoot me looks of annoyance. Finally, they were all prepared and gently packed up what looked like an octopus robot with dolphin vibrators stuck on the end of each appendage. Once it was all packed up, it took four of the zombie lesbians to lift it and drag it out my front door. As they quietly dragged themselves out into the cool summer night air, their bloody, cummy footprints tracked all over my apartment, I stopped the first one again.
“What the fuck just happened???”
“Didn’t you check your inbox before you pressed play?”
“Every time you listen to ANALDICKTION, hot zombie lesbians will come to your house and have an orgy with a tentacle rape robot while chewing on your various organs.”
And with that, they were gone.
Now, here I am, staring at my computer screen, trying to decide if I’m willing to lose another testicle just to get to listen to the sweet dulcet sounds of human garbage disposal. I wonder if I’m willing to lose a chunk out of my leg just to get to listen to the growler’s impossibly low growls and his more midrange, tortured howls.
Am I willing to lose my right chin bump, just to get to listen to chaotically fast guitars downtuned so low the strings slapped Satan in the balls with each beat? Or would I be willing to hazard a couple of toes just to headbang like a coke fiend trying to headbutt a SWAT team into submission to the rhythm of those relentless drums?
I try to think back to the blackout zombie orgy, trying to catch and hold onto that mix of barely contained, penis-smashing swirl of pure demented hatred. I remember their interesting use of movie and (possibly) rap album samples. I now have a strange urge to defecate on myself like GG Allin while watching Superbad. While getting assfucked by a tentacle robot and having my balls gnawed on by half rotted lesbian zombie. I remember the surge of pure awesomeness as it fucked my ears and didn’t even bother to pull out or call me in the morning.
Fuck it! You only die once…gotta make it fun…
EDITOR’S NOTE: I’m just adding this note because I think I’m due a few murmurs of thanks for not putting the Sluts album cover at the top of this post where it would be visible to every poor, misguided, underage miscreant who might stumble onto our site, thinking it might have something to do with voice lessons. At least, I put it after the jump.
Actually, I feel like a boring tight-ass piece of diarrheal dog shit for not putting the album cover above the jump. I am clearly not metal enough and need to move in with Phro. So, to make up for my weakness, I’m throwing a nasty Analdicktion song your way. My god, this shit is rockin’ my world:[audio:https://www.nocleansinging.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/ANALDICKTION-SLUTS-01-Fingerbang-Abortion.mp3|titles=ANALDICKTION – Fingerbang Abortion]
Well, damn, that really wasn’t enough. I feel defiled, and I want you to understand why. I think I want to marry this drummer. If he’ll be gentle. So here’s another song:[audio:https://www.nocleansinging.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/ANALDICKTION-SLUTS-02-Whoreaphobic.mp3|titles=ANALDICKTION – Whoreaphobic]