Friday, February 24, 2006

so it's one-thirty in the morning and i'm listening to the songs for my imaginary wedding, waiting for Mr. Show to come on. playing a show tomorrow, where i will seek vengeance on those who have wronged me by grindcentric sonic means, while they remain unaware that i am chanting for their piss to turn to fire in the middle of a long urination, right when they least suspect it. playing in Levitown in a month new favorite place to hate, due to their trash-ass populus consiting of dumb-shit kids who are about 8 years too late on the whole "big pants and a Slipknot hoodie" look and stealing-the-heart-of-my-potential-future-wife garbage men who look like walking Ozzfest tie-ins. they have it all and still they need to put out their menthol-cigarretes out on my soul while they try and tip their trailers back up, hoping that none of their ICP merchandise was destroyed. "oh no! i spilled 6-week old bong water on the tickets to the Kittie concert! lets get a 13 year old drug addict pregnant to forget our troubles!"

i smell like the ass of masturbation.

and LI, if you all love Billy Joel so much, maybe you should start driving like him. save me the headaches and provide some entertainment for my ugly little soul.



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