All those white-collar workers make us sick... And while they’re raking the dough with no scruples, we are mounting back those old heavy iron trucks for day we will crack’em heads shoulders knees and toes. We are far away from being the anti-success type of guys, but some times you have to stop fucking around. While traders are betting with pension funds on the roulette, homeless people are being executed around the favelas of Rio in the name of Football... The world is spinning the other way round, you can’t trust what’s online perhaps you might be better off turning back on the telly... We stay loyal to our convictions, always for free. We will never be able to swim in pools of money although a mustang 1968, a decent salary and a skate ramp in the backyard will do the job. Keep scrapping benches, painting trains and sparking owls. Its all we have left in this world of madness.