onemorepanic

Let's make a point to kick ass.
Let procedure rot on it's own.

Neck wounds and drunken girls making half-assed and unwilling apologies muttering "i'll message her on myspace with the explain".
Awkard, random bite on the neck, blood pouring down my neck. Anchor Steam fills my pint glass, death metal on the dj's giant speakers. Inseminated Remains or some lame name less clever.

Discussing vibrators and why the hell would she'd bite my fucking neck and how a brutal wound across the jugular will not look pretty to the misses. Strange girls with european vacations telling assorted stories, none of my apologies standing, she loved every second of it, and I attempt with the quickness to pass off to the human's I call friends.

Late night people discussing gangbangs and me attempting my exit.

Home. Talking to my mother, me endowed in booze, discussing the nature of people, and their tendency to appall us. Schizophrenic kids from way back showing their face suddenly after 4 years disappearance, little brothers best friend and absolute madman, still an imprint on the carpet from when he used to stay with us considering it again, me giving the thumbs up to the dukes.

Me surrounded by good friends, misses on the way, piss straining the edge of my dick and a budlight in hand. Steel Pole Bath Tub across the stereo.
And all is well.
Attempt to be concise.
Tiny amounts of love to the reader.
Fuck yourself to the rhythm of hope.