Listening to this album is like trying to insulate an igloo with wet leaves, a waste of time, energy and effort. Blueberry Bloated blows like a cold case of the blueberry balls, not because it would be more cost effective to heat the igloo with the ignited happening hipster wind and excessive experimental gas released from the album’s punctured guts; but simply because I can’t fathom what would ever possess someone to write the line, “Later at lunch with the taco lettuce crunch crunch” and then sing it in what is possibly the most annoying vocal delivery “EVER”. Listening to the line makes Urkle’s voice sound like listening Courtney Cox climax with a double pronged dildo. If anyone wants me to spend more time with this piece of garbage, then all I’m saying is I’d better get my Taco-cocko-sucko-ed.