Do you enjoy watching Ian Hill make polite conversation with
some fat guy on a couch? You shouldn’t because it’s fucking inane. Does it
sound like he enjoys being asked the same questions for the hundredth time?
Does FAT ASS MCHUNGARY think that that he is the first person to ever ask Judas
Priest about where their leather and spikes came from? FUCK OFF TUBBO. Not only do I have to hear you ask Hill STUPID SHIT, while he sits there dressed
like an aging porn star but I also have to listen to the fucking bass in the
background from the fucking concert.
The point is, if you have nothing to ask a musician that is
either; A. NOT INANE BULLSHIT, or B.
NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN FIND ON FUCKING WIKIPEDIA,
you have no business interviewing them. Fuck you in the mouth lard ass for
making me sit through you making Ian hill sit through what was probably the
worst part of his night. What crossed through your mind before sitting on that couch shit head? Were you blinded by the though of being so close to Ian Hill's dick that you couldn't think of anything worth asking? What was the point of those six minutes besides making Hill reveal HOW MUCH OF A BITCH HE IS, for his desert island play list of hard rock has-beens?
In other news, Ian Hill is scared and confused by the
internet. He talks about how it is both good and evil like some lovecraftian
abomination which wanders the cosmos devouring some and sparing others
seemingly at random. IT'S SOCIAL MEDIA FUCKO, FIGURE IT OUT. Spend less
time LISTENING TO YOUR HARD ROCK
BULLSHIT, and take a class at the senior’s center. Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix will still be
there sucking it up when you’re done.
Sagecutioner
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