Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Monday

If you could only see, what I see little Miss.
Then maybe you'd probably stop smoking meth.

It's not the rambling, or random remarks at the floor or walls.
It's when you cross that threshold, and violate our space. You're delusional, physically aggressive to one's self, and others. Sure, I have a big and beautifully creepy brow, there's no reason to stare at me now. The one tooth wonder called me a mother*er.

Over the hill alcoholics, that like to call themselves business savvy.
Inbetween buzz and kill meatheads.
Passer by, stare downs.
Grumbling thoughtful truths.

"How's it going?" Daggers, aggressive, and simply pointless.
Did you get off on trying to be tough? The way you hurt your family isn't that enough?

Honestly, yeah.. How is it going Mister? Are you alright?

Would like to tell him to go home and try to fix his shitty marriage, but this so called gent probably likes his idiot box more then the real thing.

But it's best to play it cool, especially when you are minding your own business, it seems that all the lost souls are a bunch of flesh eating shit hawks, just begging you to lose your shit.

If there is a problem, I shall remove it. Reasoning of deduction: rationalism.

A complete and udder avoidance of tard-bots is essential to a clear and healthly mindset.
Since the majority of the world is *ing crazy, especially at night.
Normally, this is why I drive.








1 comment:

Dios Cozsmic Astro said...

yOo Monk wit that real talk!!