KingLou Drops Science 2.0

Apparently last night I woke Jodi up while still sleeping to say "Lyle Lyle Crocodille" in a slow and deliberate way. Then, according to jodi, I went into a critique of the beloved watermellon sashing comedian Gallagher. Apparently I tore his apart in my sleep with some mean statements of how it was all too easy to read and predictable. I guess in our dreams we can say whatever we like. Of course I am too terrified to speak harshly of Gallagher during my waking hours. His eyes are everywhere.... But now that I have discovered the Big G's website I am so angry at myself for never learning how to play an instrument. Crueler words have never crossed my eyes... "Wanna be the GALLAGHER band! Gallagher is looking for musical talent to write music for his comedic song lyrics. If you think you've got the stuff to smash it with Gallagher contact him at gallaghers-gay-email-address.com" Note it doesn't ask if you want to be IN the bad. Do you want to BE the band? Band song ideas are met with a sledge-o-matic to the dome. But really, working for Gallagher you are asking for the o'Matic to the dome. It's an inevitability. Working for Gallagher = Death Wish. And then there are his copycat fans. New link to the Fugitive Chef video. Now with production stills.