Nothing says “we perform together on a regular basis and have achieved a sublime rapport as a chamber ensemble” quite like a badly-composed collage of individual promotional photos.
Once the whole band had contracted narcolepsy, it became impossible to get a picture of them all with their eyes open.
It was in the contract. What part of “at my feet” did they not understand?
Not organic? He’d put a plant on it and everything. They were going to have to be more specific.
It wasn’t until somebody called her bluff that she discovered you really could make an album cover out of pictures you’d found on Facebook.
She was right. It was much less awkward once she’d moved them closer together.