Ladies and gentlemen, The Vestaloynes.

Hey kids, I was wandering around in the bad end of town when I came across a old, weather-worn magazine. Because I'm a fan of good ideas, I decided to pick it up, and 'lo, an issue of Rock Gods and Hot Rods from January 1973. The cover story was about a band that, although I'd never heard of them, they (this is going to sound stupid, but bear with me) played for me in a dream. So now I'm Neo and shit. I was able to copy the article, which I'm going to post below. I have no pictures or actual clippings from the magazine, because a hobo ran up to me, grabbed the magazine, hit me, and told me to stop courting his birds. Yeah.

Here's the article:

Music Is Complete: We Have The Vestaloynes.
The first in a three part series heralding the end of times, and the coming of The Vestaloynes
By Marshall "Hot Pockets" Blalock

Thunder roars, the skies part, music is heard above the din. Raw, delicious riffs; hard, throbbing grooves; pounding thrusts of percussion...and The Voice. Descending down to Earth with a secret agenda, only to be fulfilled by rocking, they are The Vestaloynes. The Vestaloynes want your mind, your eyes, and your ears; they know your thoughts, your hopes, your fears. Straight out of Dr. Hook's "Freaker's Ball" come the Vestaloynes, the audio paradox. Smooth and gritty; country and city; right up front but they sneak up behind; you see them and hear them, but they live in your mind. You only turn them on once, because you can't turn them off. This is The Vestaloynes' nefarious scheme.

Ancient stone tablets mention them, though recorded human history is but a blink in the eye of the Vestaloynes' epic journey through the ether. Inexplicable by means of science or faith, the true story of the five space troubadours is incomprehensible. It has been said that their Earthly forms were raised by she-wolves (the Romans paid homage to the Vestaloynes with the story of Romulus and Remus). As for their name? An excerpt from the Official Vestaloynes Biography and Colouring Book:

"Fatty, Sir Royal, Old Man, Big Jim, and Bosco P. took their surname from the vehicle of their conception, a '62 Vestaloyne."

Visionary, luminary, pulmonary. Don't bother hiding the women, such an effort is futile.

Here come The Vestaloynes.

And there you have it. When I woke up from the vigourous flogging which I received from my homeless aggressor, I found I was next to three dead seagulls and a pelican (how it got to St. Catharines is beyond me). So, sure, I got beaten senseless by a bum (seriously, I haven't been able to smell for three days), but I've become enlightened by the Vestaloynes. They even have a site. Check them out.

Moment of Zen: Pelican hats!