When you wake up with two empty bottles of Jack, one empty bottle of rum, and one small, empty bottle of Jim Beam sitting in your living room, a six pack of Iron City pounders in the fridge that you have no recollection of purchasing, a random Vicodin sitting on top of the microwave, broken shot glasses laying all around, and dog food embedded in the carpet, you know it was a good night.
Even if you don't really remember it.
I am one crazy motherfucker sometimes.
Love,
Monroe
Even if you don't really remember it.
I am one crazy motherfucker sometimes.
Love,
Monroe
VIEW 21 of 21 COMMENTS
"Fuck me, kitten... You are - WILD".
... Ah, yes. I pulled out the X-files tee-vee soundtrack on ye ass.
(Oddly, I've never enjoyed the programme, but I bought the cee-dee, anyway. I was a sucker for Soul Coughing, Nick Cave, and Filter, back in the day.)
Selah.
I have to say, though. I don't think I could keep up with you... Or maybe I could, and I wouldn't want to see myself pull it off, since I don't know what sort of monger I'd become. (And I'm mongerous enough as it is.)
I also wouldn't have any idea what a vicodin would look like. Simple antidepressants, like buspar, I could identify though.
(I put the ka in both crazy and karate.)
(Ok. Not karate.)
But, yeah. I approve. Especially the rum. And the Jack I'll let go without comment.
But, Jim Beam, not so much. But that's because I don't like people named Jim.
(Especially Jim Belushi. Loathe him almost as much as I loathe Dennis Quaid.)
... And, thanks for correcting me. My personal wikipedia (entry: Monroe Suicide) has been amended to indicate you are a vegetarian, not a full-on vegan.
Oh, and in my wiki, you fall between "molasses, slow as", and "Monrovia, Liberia, capital of".