Space Cretins

Rocket Roll (Killing Pig)
by Scott Hefflon

Could have legs, hard to tell at a quick pass. Gutter glam is either righteous in its sing-alongable, self-destructive glory, or it’s suburban mouth-breathing mulletheads who never got off the coke so they still think mirror shades and crankin’ “Welcome to the Jungle” while cruisin’ slow around the mall parking lot’ll get ’em laid by anyone but a MILF > three drinks. Play ’em real loud on yer next bender or get ’em on the mp3 CD, whichever comes first.
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