OK, so we got all moved in a week and a half ago. We finally finished all the cleaning at the old place about a week ago. AND THAT BY ITSELF IS ENOUGH TO PUMP ME UP. But I know that probably won't pump up the rest of you, so read on.
Walking into that empty place, for what would turn out to be two (2) brutal nights worth of hard cleaning, did NOT PUMP ME UP at all. The place was filthy. When looking at the old, dirty ass carpet, we couldn't help but rofl. Everything that could possibly go wrong with carpet, did go wrong: stains, shit everywhere, being all torn up, etc.
I knew what had to be done.
There was only one place I could turn.
One place I knew I could count on.
One place where you know what you're gonna get.
One place I can trust.
One place I can go to for all my HUMP DAY PUMP UP needs.
You bet, I fired up my blog in that empty old apartment, and got PUMPED THE FUCK UP.
BOOSH! - INSTANT PUMP WITH THE CLASSIC OBITUARY JAM, 'DON'T CARE'.
Don't be fooled by the title; they do care. Oh yes, the do. And they care about one thing, and one thing only.
And that thing is GETTING PUMPED UP.
Oh, you don't believe me?
KEEP THAT PUMP GOIN' WITH THIS AWESOME LITTLE NUMBER, 'THREATENING SKIES'.
Like I said before, Obituary cares about GETTING PUMPED UP. Why do you think they wrote these songs?
To make some sociopolitical statement? FUCK NO
To make classic 90's death metal? NO WAY, JOSE
Or to get PUMPED THE FUCK UP? NOW YOU'RE SPEAKIN' MY LANGUAGE!
So anyway, back to our cleaning adventures...I totally forgot to take pictures of the empty old place, cause that woulda made for a great post. I gotta admit, we did get the bathrooms pretty spotless though. And by we, I mean I.
Here's the plan for today: We're gonna pretend the rest of the week is nothin' but a little stain in ur terlet. Go ahead, crank up that Obituary, crank one out, GET PUMPED UP, and SCRUB THE SHIT OUTTA THAT PESKY LITTLE STAIN. Go ahead, make your mom proud.