A Black Feather, A poison pen...

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don't think twice - it's alright

yeah, i'd rather be my fucked-up crazy self than the embodiment of every flaky-assed west-coast stereotype.

i'd rather be a crude bastard with a sharp tongue and a sarcastic streak a mile wide than a bitch-asss tweaker who vents his anger issues by playing a spirited round of "Smack my bitch up: The Home game"

I'd rather be a bit on the whiny side than have the aforementioned issues and still manage to loudly and publicly suck my own cock over how grown up and evolved i think i am

also:

I've left better poems floating in corn-filled lumps in my commode

6:51 p.m. - 2005-10-06

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