gallas13

the boys i mean are not refined
they go with girls who buck and bite
they do not give a fuck for luck
they hump them thirteen times a night

one hangs a hat upon her tit
one carves a cross on her behind
they do not give a shit for wit
the boys i mean are not refined

they come with girls who bite and buck
who cannot read and cannot write
who laugh like they would fall apart
and masturbate with dynamite

the boys i mean are not refined
they cannot chat of that and this
they do not give a fart for art
they kill like you would take a piss

they speak whatever's on their mind
they do whatever's in their pants
the boys i mean are not refined
they shake the mountains when they dance

-edward estlin cummings

ever full of piss and vinegar? right now i'm marinating in my own venom. and it's not a single thing that's brought this about - really it's a lot of little things that have culminated in a thursday morning dose of hemlock. a little hangover. a dash of sad friends. a heaping tablespoon of homesickness (let me also say that there is nothing like wrasslin' tequila on the company dime- so it is a trade off), all baked for four days in unproductivity. but not to worry, it's just a right now thing. not an all-the-time thing. according to my calculations, tomorrow is friday, the holiest of the workin' stiff's days. so light at the end of my little tunnel, shine your magnificent rays down on my pasty countenance and color me a wonderful drunken bronze.

oh, and for those who didn't know: she loves me.

boo ya.