hecklerspray was horribly stuck once in the middle of a swirling gaggle of wing-flapping Canadian geese. It was terrible – all the squawking, all the honking, all the pinching us with feathers – terrible we tell you!
When they finally flew away we were stranded two states to the south from where we were when it started with only a tattered Italian motorcycle jacket and some wing-shaped facial bruises. Our subliminal self-defence mechanism has helped us block out a lot of what happened – but three weeks later we laid a freaking egg. We’re just saying.
Because of this experience we can kind of but not really relate to how DMX must have felt after some woman raped him while he was only trying to sleep with a window-breeze regulating the temperature of his exposed man-parts. We can’t totally relate, mind you, because a judge never summarily called our account fictitious and then awarded all those geese something like a million and a half dollars.
But aside from that we know exactly what the man’s going through.
