For skin irritation
Peeing sideways sucks.
I have developed a crush on Kirsten Dunst. And to make things worse, I think its because she's Mary Jane in Spider-Man. A continuing statement on my addiction to the fantasy of women and the myths of romance and love.
Yeah... totally not wanting to be awake tomorrow, but definately not wanting to go to sleep. Insomnia seems more like a hobby than a disease, seeing as I can take naps at the drop of a hat yet I wake up at six AM after a four o'clock knockout. Either I'm a hypocrite on vigil or a really sad attempt at a raccoon. Regardless, it's a shit way to make a living.
I have a lot of pretentious speeches in my head that I'd like to give. I'm writing them out note by note to scream at politicians when I get my own chair-on-high.
Obviously, as my felonious record and general reputation as an alcoholic, drug-addled degenerate will only serve to stagnate the political well, I will need to construct myself a series of progressive maneuvers to delineate the idea of what is "T.O." from the competition's idea of what is "T.O." so as to differentiate the brand, as it were.
We are not here to make friends. We are here to sell personality. This is the casting call for the next American Idol. Pop stardom without the risk of talent, competence or originality. Lowest common demoninator, folks. Here we run on strictly deisel.
Yeah... I'm not sure where I was going with that. Anyway, that's what I do. Call me if you need a date ladies, or maybe just a night on the town. Give me a ring or just stop by the 123. I'm lovely, lucious and, as always, intensely moist.
The hell is wrong with me?
Peeing sideways sucks.
I have developed a crush on Kirsten Dunst. And to make things worse, I think its because she's Mary Jane in Spider-Man. A continuing statement on my addiction to the fantasy of women and the myths of romance and love.
Yeah... totally not wanting to be awake tomorrow, but definately not wanting to go to sleep. Insomnia seems more like a hobby than a disease, seeing as I can take naps at the drop of a hat yet I wake up at six AM after a four o'clock knockout. Either I'm a hypocrite on vigil or a really sad attempt at a raccoon. Regardless, it's a shit way to make a living.
I have a lot of pretentious speeches in my head that I'd like to give. I'm writing them out note by note to scream at politicians when I get my own chair-on-high.
Obviously, as my felonious record and general reputation as an alcoholic, drug-addled degenerate will only serve to stagnate the political well, I will need to construct myself a series of progressive maneuvers to delineate the idea of what is "T.O." from the competition's idea of what is "T.O." so as to differentiate the brand, as it were.
We are not here to make friends. We are here to sell personality. This is the casting call for the next American Idol. Pop stardom without the risk of talent, competence or originality. Lowest common demoninator, folks. Here we run on strictly deisel.
Yeah... I'm not sure where I was going with that. Anyway, that's what I do. Call me if you need a date ladies, or maybe just a night on the town. Give me a ring or just stop by the 123. I'm lovely, lucious and, as always, intensely moist.
The hell is wrong with me?