The ceiling tiles of my apartment are beginning to bulge downwards, reaching hungrily for my unwashed laundry. I blame ghosts.
In the beginning, I thought to cover up the water-damaged tiles with Lordi posters. But there's too much damage, and not enough poster to go around. Besides, where the hell is Lordi, anyway? The arockalypse seems to have been postponed until later in the year. We have been given no excuses as to why Mr. Lordi couldn't be bothered to fly to America. Hell, he flies upon wings made from stolen dreams, so there's really no reason why he couldn't come on time.
Perhaps we have failed him in some way. This is about the only reason that I'm willing to accept. Even that might not suffice for Narraptor, but he places the very highest standards on his monsters.
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