curbdrop out of grace

moderate commentary on the social deconstruct of binge gendering

whatever happened to the good old days when ugly was ugly and that's all you had to tell a girl to make her eat her weight in dismay? the mirror don't lie baby. tell it like it is and you might make her cry but she'll grow in personality.

ugly babies make great cases for sids. it's not true, there is a such thing as an ugly baby, just ask the rents.

halfbreeds are beautiful because that's "god's" way of saying, i fucked up big time with that whole 80's cock rock.

acid is best when experimented with. but if you do too much, your world might melt to the sea to shining sea. i hate it when people say don't do drugs. don't do life man. it's life that'll wear you down until you do drugs. but it's never the other way around where drugs wear you down until you do life. see my point?

i wonder if this world would truely be a better place if charlie sheen hadn't starred in hot shots, part deux. hmmm, the world may never hunger for another bad ass turned comic. oh except with that whole bobby d thing. fucker sell out and about.

hardcore porn tastes better the 2nd day.

your goodbye is a noose i hang on to. you don't see how far i swing from the seabreeze blowing my swaying heart. i died before you even opened your mouth and closed my fate.

temptation shouldn't be seen as negative energy. unless you cannot resist it's kiss.

the lipstick smeared on his lies was evidence enough that love had nothing to do with love. i'll say it again in sounds you can hear. the lipstick smeared on his lies was evidence enough that fuck had nothing to do with fuck.

why do you hate me so much he asked. well first, you're not him. second, you're not me, but yet i see myself in you. third, i'm me and that's too far from being sane. so i don't hate you. you hate me. make sense? and he was far too aroused by her inconsistencies to have noticed the raping logic that stemmed from a lifetime of animal abuse she had endured. of course this all makes sense now. the sun sets in the east and rises with to the beat of polyphonic alarm machines. the cars driving around the block circle like space cadets. trash cans lining the streets have since replaced dreams of golden radio days. gravity has become a fashion trend. your faux sincerity is ninety-nine times better than the flickering candles smearing cheap fragrance against white washed walls. so, then why are we still friends. we are still friends right? of course we aren't. i only speak to you because i don't know anyone else i can talk to that can bear the beating that is my voice. i wish cats were as obedient are you. oh but they are, you just have to feed them crumbs out of the palm of your selfishness. that's exactly what the end of the world will be like. the end will begin with roman candles shooting down from the heavens like falling skyscapers. your misery will wash off your face and into the bottles you consume matching hourly slavery. with guns cocked at starved hips. with guns cocked at darling wits.

posted by fillshe @ 12:18 AM