pb

my pink cardboard samuri sword is to keep that scary voices and world-killing Vogons at bay, why the fuck else would i have it?

jeez, you people and your questions.

why are you talking to that dead cat in the gutter pb? why are monkeys flying out of your butt pb? why are you humping that signpost pb? why the pink cardboard samuri sword, pb?

geez people, get a life and leave me alone. i've got better things to do with my time, mainly figuring out what those better things are supposed to be and not humping anymore signposts because my peepee gets all bruised.


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something tells me i shouldn't post when i have to close one eye and squint with the other because i'm so damn soused i'm seeing double. its amazing the entry below isn't full of typos and wailing about being out of beer and where's my pink cardboard samuri sword? is that how you spell samuri? eh, whatever.



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drunk.

double.

love.

lust.

its all the same.

touch, tease, be the dream...

for me.

i'll just find you wanting.

get out of my bed.

go away

leave nothing

but your void.

i'm better off

waking alone

and pure.




-pb




music: lateralus
book: the redemption of althalus










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please lie to me and say this isn't the all. drip comforting embraces from your conviction. enfold me in lies and platitudes. tell me death isn't preferable. lie about my worth. tell me my blood isn't needed as it soaks into dirt and time.