moribundt cake

it's the truth baby
i invented all your complaints
there's no future in it, so what's the use
don't tell me of can'ts and ain'ts

don't tempt my fireside, my darker side
don't play down to me like you're the first
i'm hollow where the knife should strike
i sleep on pain so do your worst

if the mission is a cruel exploit
and i'm worthless if i'm not in pain
like the winner of a dogfight date
i'll break your heart to win your game

i'll take the winnings off the bar
and buy your drinks until you drown
killing kindness with or without
knocking shots and memories down

the night is always quasi-light
the blur is almost always clear
the bed is warm, the touch is cold
the roadblock is a wall of fear

it's the truth baby
i invented all your painful ways
i know there's no future in it
but tell me you love me anyway 

ugly is as ugly does 

Rest in peace, Cody

Goodbye old friend. 

she is a sweet mystery 

guitars, liquor, and pork roll

why are all the rad, hot girls wicked far away tonight?

a thousand telephones that don't ring

a suicidal fruitfly flew directly through a stream of my urine as i was relieving myself this evening.

what does it mean that this information qualified as journal-worthy?