| Fell asleep in the garage, drinking Rioja and doing target practise with a replica AK47. I'm like your friendly neighbourhood psycho, me. Awoke at 2:00am to find icicles where once I had testicles of some renown and concluded the English weather had bollocksed me up once more. My eyes are like pissholes in slush, cheeks like sandpaper matching the texture and taste of my tongue. Did I read somewhere that there was more to life than this? |
