opinionated, in a long term relationship with grammar, year long cyclist, not as much a foodie as i am more so a human trough. pitbulls and PMA. neither misandrist, misogynist, misanthrope nor malevolence; let's call it 'survival of the fittest vs. pms.
Dear Eastern Prom, I know its wrong… But its suicide eyes that wrote this song. For all I’m worth, writer’s block is a bitch. Words falling like bricks for a New england wish. I was an easy male fuck in the town of “Naive-ity” All I wanted was a shot in the dark, but like a knife through the heart, I choke on spit covered words.. Oh my god, its happened again. Screaming gets you nothing. One more night in this town and I swear that i’m dead. I drew a heart around the name of your city.