Welcome to the very first Friday installment of This One Goes To Eleven, everyone. Semi-mandated by the new Global Release Day, proceedings have moved to an altogether badder and boozier time slot, so join me in saying TGI-motherfucking-F for the first and, mercifully, final time.
The Mets have the best record in baseball, the Rangers are on to the second round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, and spring is pretty much in full swing. In other words, that bud of contentment in the pit of your being is in serious danger of blooming into actual, terrifying happiness. Thankfully, however, we’re […]
Alright head count time, I just want to make sure everybody survived the one-two gut punch that was Valentine’s weekend and an Ulver-approved polar vortex. We all good? Hearts, minds, and frostbitten fingertips still intact? OK, alright, awesome. Now let’s get down to business.