Stallions from the 'Boot'
I think I'm in love with a boy with a yellow mohawk. He's tall, handsome, pierced, and has brutally hot eyes. Something about punks has always intrigued and aroused me, but then again, studying the subculture and its current followers has tainted the fetish.
Punk has been dead for twenty-two years. Seeing people pretend that it still lives makes me sad. Very sad.
I once met a "punk" who pranced around the lower east side in diesel jeans and an army surplus-bought satchel with a Clash patch blanketing one side. A year and a half has passed, and this individual continues to make "punk" comments and continues to don the clothing. Oddly enough, he's a staple at scenester parties. This is punk in new york city now, a pathetic, rotting carcass, begging to be allowed to decompose. Just get over it.
Punk has been dead for twenty-two years. Seeing people pretend that it still lives makes me sad. Very sad.
I once met a "punk" who pranced around the lower east side in diesel jeans and an army surplus-bought satchel with a Clash patch blanketing one side. A year and a half has passed, and this individual continues to make "punk" comments and continues to don the clothing. Oddly enough, he's a staple at scenester parties. This is punk in new york city now, a pathetic, rotting carcass, begging to be allowed to decompose. Just get over it.