It happened. love of music It was dismantled. Taken mercilessly into the anus. Whatever comes next is and always will be nothing compared to the contribution Daan Stuyven made to society in the final episode. In many a Flemish living room, defibrillators would probably go crazy, bags of chips left untouched for four minutes and die-hard Metejoor fans choked on their prey.
Seen Metegor, friend of languid mediocrity, seducer of the Flemish Volksempfenden, his songs drenched in dubious taste, covered by a circle of musicians who settled in a Spanish villa for the season. One by one they accepted Metejoor’s number with a smile, not without forced acquiescence. When God created man, he was nothing but extravagant with no spine cojones.
It was, of course, without relying on Daan. “I love the spoken word tradition,” Roots-Holsbeck said A quack par excellence Sand in our eyes in a previous video. A great excuse to reinterpret the introduction to the self-titled debut album Metejoor… euhm…, being the spoken introduction with which Vosselaar Chansonnier thanks fans and family for making it a success. Hi, I would like to personally and sincerely thank you for purchasing my first album. This is how a word of thanks begins from our many MIA laureates, which – just in between – say more about MIA and our music industry than Metejoor itself.
Dan turned this clichéd thank-you into a sinister, deeply sarcastic, growling and gasping Barlando, over angry synthesizer chords, dramatic violins and apocalyptic choral singing that, as if during a searing Eucharist, “Meeteee-jooo-hooo-oooor!!!” echo. He was like Jean Gabin and Jean-Pierre Castaldi, but all things considered, he was pure Marcel Duchamp. and zaba. and something out quick view.
Sphincter
Amidst all this fiery whine of paranoia and false feelings, the other candidates smiled convulsively as if Siegfried Bracke was wearing a mankini with five dildos in front of them. Random K3s strategically dropped their lower jaws to the floor because the cams just rolled. Above all, we heard one motherfucker For a summertime hit that will soon reverberate over the Blankenberge dams in a fair world. Then, Metegor himself felt pain at the question of whether he was being treated flatteringly or if his middle big finger had been rammed into his sphincter.
I wanted your text as Dan said then with a hurt look. God save him.
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