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demonic little bastards rubbing against my nuts ( Read more... )

stripped to the bone and always giving more to the demons inside ( Read more... )

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crawling through the sleaze just trying to get a drink. slipping around the raining sweat just to find a drink. contorting my body to squeeze into the cracks between people searching for the drink. listening to the psycho babble of the inexperienced drunks lusting over the beast next to them as i continue my quest. so unbelievably pissed off that ( Read more... )

Take the quiz: "What do you love about making love?"

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with a head full of pills and hands filled with bottles i stumble further and further down the hole in search for what, i do not know. the end to a means, or the life that is myn. the life that has been lost long ago and so damn hard to find. and considering how long the search has taken, i think i choose this hell, or this end. at least it is here ( Read more... )

"an irishman is never drunk as long as he can hold on to a blade of grass and not fall off the face of the earth."

i sit and view in amazement how much i have to alter my own reality just to keep a semi sane mental state. or move to the other alternative which would be just pure insanity.

Rian
n. contraceptives, but also a secret code-word for firearms.
"Want some Rian, Sabrina?"