Skidmore, Pay Per Verse presents: A Shrinking Violent

I’m going to describe this record as if it were a meal being served to me in a mid-low quality restaurantorial establishment. I’m walking down the street with a friend. We’ve established that we’re both hungry, and in search of food. We approach a storefront. The overhead sign reads: “Skidmore’s Diner.” We look at one another and laugh a little. “Let’s do it,” my friend says. I nod. We walk in, and are greeted by a woman with more gums than teeth. Her T-shirt is tope. I’ve never seen a tope T-shirt before. She sits us down at an uncomfortably large table. This table could have easily accommodated like eight people. My friend orders the greek salad. I order a club sandwich, with a side soup. Within two seconds our order arrives, but the woman has mixed it up. We didn’t get what we ordered. We got a plate with an album of spoken word, radio drama nonsense on it. The meal was alright, it just wasn’t really what we ordered. (Aaron Zorgel)

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