karmacoma

You and her, walking through the suburbs

no, not exactly lovers.

you're a couple

especially when your bodies double

duplicate

and then you wait

for the next Kuwait

Karmacoma...

black steel

cold sweating as i dwell in my cell
how long has it been? they got me sitting in a state pen

many switch in, switch on, switch off

nevertheless, they could never understand that i'm a black man
and i could never be a veteran

here was a land that never gave a damn about a brother like me and myself
i'm not a fugitive on the run
i'm not...

i got a letter
i got a letter
picture me giving a damn, i said never

it occurred to me the suckers had authority

got to get out, but that thought was thought before...

I hate you so much it's energising

yessssss, die, you smug, grinning mass-murdering genocidal fucking scumbag, DIE, you fucking inhuman piece of shit.

you are fucking DIRECTLY responsible for thousands of needless deaths, you grinning genocidal cock-end. I will live long enough to see your eye-sockets raped by wolves, so help me god.

before this planet is done spinning, I shall pay locusts to fill your pores with their seed and burst your fucking skin a thousand times over, so you can begin to pay back the horror you've caused on this earth, blair.

we will START by fisting you with a broken bottle.

come here, smiler. give my knife a kiss.

(no subject)

I don't mean to imply that wolves don't have a tender, consensual side to their love-making, by the way.

It's just that they're gratifyingly brutal when they deliver a punish-fuck.

(no subject)

i am a staggeringly high-functioning drunk.

At some point last night, I apparently ploughed my entire farm and sowed a week's worth of fucking crops in Farmville

(for those free of this sickening blight on the digital world, it's a weirdly addictive but entirely assinine farm-simulation "game" on facebook).

Woke up and went "shiiiit, I'll have loads of withered crops..."

*checks*

No. Even though I can't remember going to sleep, I apparently had the presence of mind to sit down and spend 20 minutes on AN IMAGINARY FUCKING FARMYARD LAST NIGHT.

christ.