Wednesday, June 17, 2009


I tend to address myself as a bloke a lot. Wishful thinking, I guess.
I see a certain someone I sort of looked down on has more potential than I realised.
I found a new subject to dissect.
I just set the packet of smokes on fire, and I'm not sure how.
I completley fucked up my opinion of a crazy-ass motherfucker to the point of which I have no idea weather I hate him, fear him, admire him or respect him. Probably all.
I had a rough week.
Oh, and you'd be so much better in person. Come back. :)
For the record,
I have no fucking idea what's going on anymore.


  1. And he said;
    Let the Children and let the Teachers know,
    Let the flowers and the trees, the Loopers on the floor and the smokers in the lounge, the violent fettish bees, let them know,
    that in the Spring Time,

    I shall come.

    Til them i sweat blood at my studio - where dreams get a labotomy daily.

    And then they ask to see magic.

  2. Ugh. Your preoccupation with other people is kinda pathetic.

    Cats are better. Trust me.