Monday, April 10, 2006

NP:Dresden Dolls-Sing

i've need to make a mess of myself. become a trainwreck. remove myself from accountabilty. get drunk and split my knuckles open on a load-baring wooden collum, put my boot through a jutebox just so i don't have to hear anymore wannabe shit-kicker bar cheese. loose control over the most trivial of things, like girl problems or political discussions. the world would finally grant me the privalege of breathing space, because "he has problems". maybe i'd get money for playing up the psycho-poet-punk-metal-frontman thing...

....this girl just said "Sing for the President/Sing for the Terrorists/Sing". i love her. i also love Winona Ryder and all girls who look like Winona Ryder. don't try to stop me either, ladies. you were cursed with an innordinate amount of appeal. just smile and accept the fact that i was biologically programed to fall in love with lose myself in those big dark forever be tuned to the sweet husky voices that spin darkly-comical one liners that can melt the hearts of even the most loveless of all misanthropic cynics.

whoops...wrestling's on.


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