So you may say I'm scarred for life...or there some kind of fucking metal disease upon me. Some malaise...some shit so virulent its just ruined me. Then you might want to go to bed with me...i mean I'm cool, Ill usually sleep over....Just saying. Wait....what if the wrong person reads this? Aren't you already reading this?
Yeah so is this one getting personal? Is it new...did you think it would happen again? I'm like the light beneath the home invasion door. But you know now I have a gun....and I know how to use it so more than words...this shit is real. And it feel fine. Its like being in blind melon and not dying...so you morph into some psycho social media outlet band and shit...cut your hair, not your skin kids.
Wait...what was that? Yeah I still fucking got this shit. On lock tighter than your wife keeps her pussy on that guy at works dick. They guy she fires and claims he did wrong...but you know the truth. We all know it...we just dont say it....its like...fuck, my back hurts. Ok. I'm writing this shit and making sure the pain is a sacrifice to you. Cause you know I love my audience....and in a way the ones that have always came here...I do even if I dont see em know em. I have to.....or I wouldn't do this shit. I wouldn't come and write some crazy shit....or something from the heart. I wouldn't lament about the world...I wouldn't mention what pissed me off or how the trash smells on Thursday.
This is what It is...this is like the admittance....like blame yourself on your birthday for who shit on the floor when they got drunk day. I haven't done that....well I dont think I have. Vomited on the floor...and I bet it looked like shit since I drank like five gallons of fucking black tar Irish car bombs and shit...but still didn't I tell this story before? and see. I hope I took your mind off the day if it sucked...maybe shook you like an bad child or old lady if it was good...and maybe just made you say...yep. Hes still fucking here if your a regular.
You know these closing lines are harder than my dick on cocaine right? So I hope that passes the test like Charlie Sheen in the aids line...cause that all I got for ya this week.
Wait...what was that? Yeah I still fucking got this shit. On lock tighter than your wife keeps her pussy on that guy at works dick. They guy she fires and claims he did wrong...but you know the truth. We all know it...we just dont say it....its like...fuck, my back hurts. Ok. I'm writing this shit and making sure the pain is a sacrifice to you. Cause you know I love my audience....and in a way the ones that have always came here...I do even if I dont see em know em. I have to.....or I wouldn't do this shit. I wouldn't come and write some crazy shit....or something from the heart. I wouldn't lament about the world...I wouldn't mention what pissed me off or how the trash smells on Thursday.
This is what It is...this is like the admittance....like blame yourself on your birthday for who shit on the floor when they got drunk day. I haven't done that....well I dont think I have. Vomited on the floor...and I bet it looked like shit since I drank like five gallons of fucking black tar Irish car bombs and shit...but still didn't I tell this story before? and see. I hope I took your mind off the day if it sucked...maybe shook you like an bad child or old lady if it was good...and maybe just made you say...yep. Hes still fucking here if your a regular.
You know these closing lines are harder than my dick on cocaine right? So I hope that passes the test like Charlie Sheen in the aids line...cause that all I got for ya this week.
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