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As the anno domini 2012 lurches closer to the horizon, so does the 13th year of Mala Suerte's bleak-as-fuck existence. Austin's alchemists of abjection are no strangers to harsh times, neither is the "joke" lost on them. Plagued by constant line-up shifts/drop outs, personal strife, and overal neglect, this coven of the black sun trudges on.
