sometimes I forget that we're living you know? Like, that life is really happening. Everything feels so flat sort of, and linear, like my life is on a piece of paper. Not like my life is writing on a piece of paper but just, my life is a piece of paper. Everything is out there seperate of me.

Alright so who's gonna suck my dick on my birthday?

umm, i don't know what i want to do here.

sorry I can't hang out with anybody. i miss you all. love.

and seriously, more and more it looks like there is no way in hell I am ever getting married.

Fuck you, Im getting a motorcycle.

My love, is like gravity for thee. And my pen is the child exploring infiniti in thinking of ways your beauty dost exist. I would make mine self a dunce with a waffle for a crown & a chicken for a heart to explore the humiliation I missed of yours. Id dream, that to be with you, would to be naked, stark raving, and gay.

I can't decide who I hate more; Banks, Tobbacco Companies, My Government, or Cell Phone companies.

what I do know, is that I've been considering celibacy for a while. Soon. Like now until my birthday. In fact, while writing this I decided yes. I am celibate. Until June 21st. Trial period.

AFRICA!!

fucking, EVERYTHING, is true.

I like to get drunk and air guitar in front of my computer to the good shit. Whiskeytown, Uncle Tupelo, John Prine, Jaybirds, Old 97's. That reeeaaaaaalllllllll FUNKY shit! Mother fuckerrrrr!