Alexey Pajitnov has control of my mind. He's using an old soviet satellite to beam information into my frontal lobe in the form of endlessly falling blocks. He wants me to take a shotgun into the McDonalds up the street and murder all of the Venusian Invaders who are killing cows as a sacrifice to their strange alien god. I'm going to listen to him. Alexey has always been right before. he must be right about this.

student / professional artist

voodoo