After all these years, Peppa Pig finally answered the call and made a record, and since I’m a bit of an expert on these matters, I listened to the damn thing. All I can say is: thank fuck I can finally jam out to Bing Bong Zoo.
What music is lacking in 2019 is someone singing about the real issues. To hell with all this “she broke my heart” and “let’s go get loaded at the club” bullshit. No, no. We need to talk about traffic. And vegetables. And the boss bitch herself, Miss Rabbit. (I mean, does anyone work harder?! Take note, you lazy fucking millennials)
No one has had the testicular fortitude to sing about this stuff… until now. Peppa and her friends are about to start a revolution. So grab your backpack…. wait, wrong show. Grab your boots, and let’s go get them fucking filthy. This album is a goddamn masterpiece, and if I don’t get a limited edition “muddy puddle” variant soon, I’m going to lose my shit. The only thing now that could possibly defeat this for Album of the Year is if Pedro Pony finally drops the hardcore record he’s been teasing for years. And if he does, you better fucking join me in the pit, Madame Gazelle – we’re going to bing bong until we’re too bingly bongly to boo.
Haiku Review Move over Iggy Peppa Fuckin Pig is here And the mic has dropped