I was checking out random journals, link surfing and being a nosey fuckwad- nothing new there- and I figured something out. There are some stupid mutha fuckas around these here parts, buckaroos. What's with all this asterisk shit
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Well guess what someone attempted "suicide" on their journal. Sorry but it was fucking funny,because I read your post right before I read theirs. They went through the entire thing too
*Cuts my wrists and bleeds wishing blah blah blah*
-gets up from the bed on the bus, looks at the tour schedule-
...
-looks around while thinking to himself...muttering-
I need to get away...
-digs through my pockets for my pocket knife and opens it to its sharpest razor, still muttering to self-
I don't wanna feel anymore...I can't feel anymore...I need to get away...
-picks the phone up and calls 911-
-sets the phone down and grabs the knife-
Do this right...
-starts slitting deep, rough slits into his wrist, over and over and over, then starts on his other wrist weakly, tries to dig down to the bone, slashing and jabbing his way through the skin, ligaments, tissue, tendons, muscles, veins, anything in his way-
Oh man im laughing over here thanks man for making my day even better.
It's all cause Friends is going off the air, ain't it? Fucking NBC driving poor, stupid kids to kill themselves and bleed all over the rug. Someone should tell the dope that you have to slash vertically for it to be successful.
The check's in the mail, right? You should see it when we break out the Mad Dog and hookers show up.
you don't call emergency you attention seeking little shit. you don't just hack at your wrists willy fucking nilly and hope for the best. and you sure as hell should be overdosing, because it's fucking rude to make other people clean bloodstains out of the carpet. especially on a tourbus.
if they don't succeed in killing their own dumb arse, you can only hope a very pissed off tour manager sure as hell will help finish the job.
a fucking pocket knife?! for fucks sake.
oh, and thanks for posting this. you've made my day and i now have proof i'm not the stupidest shit on the planet. :P
*Cuts my wrists and bleeds wishing blah blah blah*
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The blah blah blah was the money shot.
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Youre a fucking riot.
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You won't be laughing when you get the bill for my services. Papa needs a new BMX.
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...
-looks around while thinking to himself...muttering-
I need to get away...
-digs through my pockets for my pocket knife and opens it to its sharpest razor, still muttering to self-
I don't wanna feel anymore...I can't feel anymore...I need to get away...
-picks the phone up and calls 911-
-sets the phone down and grabs the knife-
Do this right...
-starts slitting deep, rough slits into his wrist, over and over and over, then starts on his other wrist weakly, tries to dig down to the bone, slashing and jabbing his way through the skin, ligaments, tissue, tendons, muscles, veins, anything in his way-
Oh man im laughing over here thanks man for making my day even better.
Reply
The check's in the mail, right? You should see it when we break out the Mad Dog and hookers show up.
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Damnit I cant think of a sly remark. Hells yeah!
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you don't call emergency you attention seeking little shit. you don't just hack at your wrists willy fucking nilly and hope for the best. and you sure as hell should be overdosing, because it's fucking rude to make other people clean bloodstains out of the carpet. especially on a tourbus.
if they don't succeed in killing their own dumb arse, you can only hope a very pissed off tour manager sure as hell will help finish the job.
a fucking pocket knife?! for fucks sake.
oh, and thanks for posting this. you've made my day and i now have proof i'm not the stupidest shit on the planet. :P
Reply
Or those lovable bandmates of his might help kill too.
I told them they should of used the fucking gun, did they listen? No they didnt.
Anytime
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