two separate occasions, but fitting for the hole in your chest and a melting esophagus motif.
four loco: watermelon.
god that ass is sweet, but she’s a bitch later when you pound it and now she feels like you’re rushing your time with her. so what i just made a sexual reference to an inanimate object. it wasn’t supposed to sound like that, but it did and now there’s no turning back. i could explain to you people what i was really aiming for, but then my blog would have meaning and direction. and that’s just not cool. we don’t do that here. the exit is to your left should you feel that my lack of cohesiveness will be a nuisance. hey, if anyone is a grammar nazi, it’s me. but when you let this kind of creative energy flow, your commas tend to wander around like a british kid on acid in a forest. the point is that i want you to read it the way it sounds in my head. my head is wonderful place, come visit and enjoy the whiskey. we will bound through the desert and cause some sort of small, yet containable, fire. so the gist of this paragraph was that i drank a four loco too fast and i got heart burn. if you weren’t already thinking that then you’re hopeless as a human and you should read all of my blogs to instill some creativity and eclectic humour in your tiny brain.
86 followers don’t lie. it’s a small number, but what are you expecting when most of my tags consist of: fuck, shit, poop, etc. it’s a controlled group experiment that i’m conducting to see who’s awesome.
tapatio: on pizza.
honey child sister GIRL. a wholeee neww woooooooorrrrrrlllllllddddd something something i’ve neverrr seeeeeeeeeen. *magic carpet ride* no i wasn’t high, it was just that tasty. TRY THAT SHIT. also, tapatio on that weirdly textured teriyaki slim jim jerky really helps its dying cause. i wonder how bad the regular flavour is. i’ll stick to my monster tabasco sticks. i’m hungry and slightly hungover. last night was a little shameful. since my downstairs bathroom is now inhabited by my grandmother, the sink got to taste the after effects of that pizza, a tall lime a rita, vodka soda plus a shot of fireball. sounds like a fantastic combo doesn’t it? it wasn’t. save yourselves. hence the burning cavity that was once my chest.
signs that you’re still young: sink puke-age around 2 am with little water intake, up at 7 to smoke and go to work; one coffee and redbull later, your stomach is still ok. how.
here i am again, hours later reading over what my brain vomited and feeling vaguely accomplished with the results of my spew time. i’ll let you in on a little secret: my life is shit right now and i don’t mean i’m single and complaining. i mean serious family issues and family business stuff. it ain’t peachy and i’m a tad less spunky these days. ok a lot less. but whatever. i think i’m done now, i’ll try to summon up another hate list next week.