take this and run like you fucking stole it...
I'm healing and its all good.
Tonight my friend john and i made our sacrifice to the gods of intoxication. We sat around a fire and spoke of things guys speak of. anyone of the male pursausion knows what i speak of. pussy, drink, the lack of weed in our lives, our place in the universe, and of the denial of ever growing up, even though we are both 25. we are guys. we never grow old. between shots of vanilla flavored vodka and stoking the fire in a yard filled with more shit than you can scrape off your shoe with a single stick, the question came up;
"what would you do if i stuck this red hot stick in your cheek?"
the reply came quite promptly; "After i was done screaming and swearing in pain, i would leave, rob my ex in-laws for a .45, drive back and shoot you in the kneecap. and call it even."
i think we laughed for more than an 20mins.
then we took a walk and set a trash fire just to set off the fire alarms at the local FD. gotta keep those boys on their toes, don't ya know.
reminder : take up jogging again. I shouldnt be winded after a 2 blocks.
i like fire.
for some reason, i think this journal will be turning into a confession of felonies in the near future. it worked for hunter, no?
im almost done my first two chapters and will be submitting them to john penton at sick puppy press. anyone who wants to chek out my older stuff, let me know. ill send you the link. then you can see how mentally unstable i really am.
being a PARANOID SCHICOPHENIC maybe be a hinderance to some, but i think ill take the ball and run with it.
take it and run like you stole it...
it may not be hunters words, but i know he would agree with them whole heartedly...
rip hunter. i hope the mescaline is good in heaven, and they have a hard time with you. youve opened many an eye, and inspired more than you could ever imagine. some of us have a pretty good idea of why you did what you did, and noone blames you. some of us hope you left us something great to go out on, but if not, we'll love you anyway.
fear my litirary wrath....
Tonight my friend john and i made our sacrifice to the gods of intoxication. We sat around a fire and spoke of things guys speak of. anyone of the male pursausion knows what i speak of. pussy, drink, the lack of weed in our lives, our place in the universe, and of the denial of ever growing up, even though we are both 25. we are guys. we never grow old. between shots of vanilla flavored vodka and stoking the fire in a yard filled with more shit than you can scrape off your shoe with a single stick, the question came up;
"what would you do if i stuck this red hot stick in your cheek?"
the reply came quite promptly; "After i was done screaming and swearing in pain, i would leave, rob my ex in-laws for a .45, drive back and shoot you in the kneecap. and call it even."
i think we laughed for more than an 20mins.
then we took a walk and set a trash fire just to set off the fire alarms at the local FD. gotta keep those boys on their toes, don't ya know.
reminder : take up jogging again. I shouldnt be winded after a 2 blocks.
i like fire.
for some reason, i think this journal will be turning into a confession of felonies in the near future. it worked for hunter, no?
im almost done my first two chapters and will be submitting them to john penton at sick puppy press. anyone who wants to chek out my older stuff, let me know. ill send you the link. then you can see how mentally unstable i really am.
being a PARANOID SCHICOPHENIC maybe be a hinderance to some, but i think ill take the ball and run with it.
take it and run like you stole it...
it may not be hunters words, but i know he would agree with them whole heartedly...
rip hunter. i hope the mescaline is good in heaven, and they have a hard time with you. youve opened many an eye, and inspired more than you could ever imagine. some of us have a pretty good idea of why you did what you did, and noone blames you. some of us hope you left us something great to go out on, but if not, we'll love you anyway.
fear my litirary wrath....