VOTU . Donut Of The Year. Album Review.


Do you like chillhop, chillcow, steezyasfuck? I do. And I liked SirLunchTheHost's new album, VOTU Donut Of The Year. Voices of The Underground plays every Saturday live 2pm est on Discord. Host @beanz and @sirlunchthehost interview interesting steemers they meet each week. SirLunch has compiled some of his sweet beats used in intervews and commercials. I got a preview listen to the tracks and decided to write a few scenarios to the tunes. Hope you enjoy your copy of DOTY VOTU. Donut Of The Year with VOTU. Albums are exclusively available for purchase in steem by contacting SirLunchTheHost directly in a post or comment, or you can find him on discord here.


5th Prize. Dusty road as it turns pavement near city roads. Cycle wheels. Drone's eye view of black helmet yellow stripes, riding a scrambler at dawn into the Palm Street lined Metropolis.

Carnival. Gloves off on counter. Shirts rolled under baskets in boxes under hangers and mats. Warm floors white towels and water towers. One last trip to the pisser before the heated room waiting with fill with sweaty students of the stretch.

First Prize. Shower shop. Nap shack. Kangaroo petting zoo downtown. Monkey chafeurs. Cotten popped collar color. Racket in hand. Cigarette smells different round here.

Flowers. Sleeping and smiling the couple are embraced. A pair of cotton shirts. Outside the window, moon on the lake. The shimmer is the only light. The dark in shadows just enough to be seen.

Go Home. The end is near. The fields are burning. The city empties itself by the hundreds since the power stopped. She is standing above the overgrown wheat near the fountain. We pass her on the way to see city hall, you know, where they shot Dragnet. There used to be a fountain here, always running with water. Now it's just a place where the woman warns those like us who keep coming back.

Good Bye. Kangaroo Napping under a palm tree. Wheels rolls by with black and yellow stripes. Drone's eye view follows the familiar rider up the center of the city. Still dawn, but clinging to night. Glowing from open shops, it wakes like nothing has happened, the rider pulls to the top of the hill and we see the ocean up ahead.

Mind Chill. Downward dog. Upward dog. Crane. Eagle. Kitty up. Kitty down. Child's Pose. Death and hold. Breathe. Remember to breathe when the lady says breathe. And do all that stuff she just did. And stop thinking about the car. Stop thinking about the drive from here to Burbank and the strawberry guy who is always there up the hill. Stop thinking about the strawberries. They're huge. Stop thinking bout the yuge strawberies. They guy charges $20 a basket. Twenty bucks this guy. He knows we're coming. They all know we're coming. Breathe. Jesus everybody's moving, what are they doing? Upward, downward, got it, breathe, this one hurts. Hold. Stop thinking about it. Whatever it was. Something about the car. Dinner, don't forget about dinner, you're picking her up at 7. She likes Strawberies.

Problems. Cotton shirts show up at the front gates, open because they know who's coming. A laid back homage to security for the industy's sake. Leather greets cotton at the door. Wood meets window with a score of screens full of glowing black, green, & gold screens. One man wears the panama white more familiar. Cotton shirt meets other cotton shirts. The cigarettes look different.

Sorry. Rain. Front Porch. Shuffle in from the rain to give and get a package from the ups guy. Rain. Shuffle in the rain with pizza delivery guy. Eat pizza on porch opening amazon box of a toy Doge Dog.

SpaceFrost. No traffic on the ride home tonight. Stop'd and get some fries. We had the PCH all to ourselves. Member that?

STravel. Welcome to Venice. I'm glad you made it. Make yourself at home. The drive wasn't so bad up from the airport was it? Here's a room. Here's the rest of the house. Here's a place to sit outside. Have a seat. Water? Lemon? Avocado? Apple? I'll be in the kitchen, so happy you're here. Welcome.

ThePhantom. Death is a cameo amongst the living on the stage.

Foruth Prize. Blinking lights of numbes moving fast and slow enough to catch the range. Fingers are typing on keyboards and tablets. There's one guy who got real loud taps and you can hear the tablet sort of cry out a little bit, tap tap tap. The numbes keep flickering in runs up and down the screens, whose colors are as much code as the shapes and symbols shown. Ice fresh in glasses. Cigarettes are cigarettes and smoking by the window is fine please. Who ordered all this fresh? Gotta call my wife.

Introbeat. Cabaret chairs and a tiny stage front and center. Red curtain. Eveyone knows who's playing tonight. Don't for get to sign the autograph on the wall.

Beating heart of a giant, a furnace heat kept warm in the belly of a beast swimming through the cold northern inner passage. She shares the waters this year with young and all rise into the light. The water gives a mist to the fjords carved by time and now teeming with life. Thick trees stretch upward into eagles soaring high above the whales below.


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