I cried the other night, big baby, because of Alicia, but that's done and over with.
Locked my keys in the car the other day, hardy har har.
Bought tickets, going to see THURSDAY tomorrow, eat it.
Anybody want to redesign this bitch for me, I can't do it becuase I'm retarded.
I also wrote this:
A plethora of blood puddled on ceramic floor. Spelling the names of a thousand victims, in his own mind. And scattered through a pool of crimson was a wreck of pills that screamed s.o.s. as they drowned. Still the bathtub ran, overfilling itself with warm blood and mangled body parts. The toilet room was the place of the best kept secrets. And with each passing night the bathroom finds itself with another victim, another cold, stiff, body.
Night after night after night after night. Dusk to dawn. To dusk, to dusk, to dusk. Always in the night, before dawn breaks and light creeps into it's windows. And the stench is unberable because flesh rots in this humid weather. Still the pills lay scattered on the title, in the cracks. The medicine cabinet was ripped from the wall. The mirror and burned out light bulbs create a holacust of broken glass deadly to all.
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