Naked Eyes, I'd love to have a chock full data cd of all their schnizz to play endlessly in mein main minivan.
Moving along:
Still throwing grenades at outstretched arms.
Sometimes they come back to papa.
I often wonder why I'm destructive in nature. Do I unconsciously do this to hasten departure?
Nobody likes a Lingering Larry...
It does, at times, feel like I'm chiseling away slowly at a hidden escape passage straight out of Alcatraz.
I think I see greener grass. It pisses me off. Why'd they have to go and do that?
Anyhoo, I leave you now to unearth a hidden bag of Doritos calling to me from its lofty perch in a cupboard over the stove...
I'm coming, darling.
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