Entry 002
Well, here we are again, my beautiful freaks and splatter punks. I’m coming to you from Razor Hill, deep in the heart of Kelowna City — the walls are sweating, the air is thick, there is the scent of pennies and bacon grease, can you smell it?
There are a million stories playing out in the city’s veins — twisted, smoking, and crawling through the concrete, with sex, danger, and dirty deals hanging in the air like a thick fog. Every shadow’s got a voice whispering your name. Can you dig it?
We’re only a few weeks out before the real sickness kicks in. Can you feel it? That itch at the back of your skull? That hunger that won’t sit quiet? I know I can.
I’ve got to keep my hands steady, got to keep my head clear, or the whole thing slips off the rails. But the truth is, I don’t want control — I just want to ride this thing screaming till the bolts pop loose.
So let me ask you — what are you waiting for? I know our little congregation is small, but I also know there are more of The New Taste out there, twitching in the dark. Tell your friends. Drag ‘em in. Let ‘em know I’m about to serve you something raw and dripping, straight off the bone. Just the way you like it, I promise.
This has been BAG!, and if you’re reading this, you’re already deeper than you think.
So light up, lean close, and enjoy the ride. With love, from Razor Hill.
See you real soon. 🪰💋