In a post-apocalyptic-artistic-privileged world that chants a private-harmonic-apotheotic-abstract song aiming to reach all the community, we ask: So, have you been to MOMA lately? This show doesn't fit anywhere. There ain't no boxes, or little boxes, tiny little white boxes, there ain't no black coffins. This is about, little cats and little pussys, about hypersex on high heels and about falling. And getting up. This is about waltzes with drones. This is about pleasant gag reflexes. This is a war and a five o'clock tea at the same time. This is about taking home, the last guy from the after party. It's about the end of the endless rave or have mercy on us. Bring uppers and downers, also.
A live tutorial about blow the last one and just gasp an "Upsy-daisy". All mine, never truly yours,Sexylia!