You Know You Kind Of Look Cute In The Dark

Not once did I preach the very words you sought. Of

course this comes to you as a shock. To be honest, I

wouldn't crush your pretty toenails into a thousand pieces.

If so, this would only be a mess I'd feel obligated to

clean up, unlike every fulfilling phantom with a hard on

that bleeds internally and externally as if it were that

fat chick at that one party who consumed every drop fell

down the stairs and then spewed out her vomit and/or AIDS.

No, this is not art, this is the weekend baby. Let's get

crazy. I feel like dancing.

A few tears shed, a few knuckles bled. Raised up to call

out the bitch behind you with a nap sack and a brand new

driver's license.

It's like that old saying, eh boys? Bon appetite.