On: The clash.

I guess I can see why people mistake me for a hipster...

And this is me waking up.

On: Remembering dreams.

This is me going to sleep. Sleeeeeeeeeeep.

On: Distaining Men, and Oxygen, for Arrogance of them ---

I never spoke—unless addressed—
I'm here for when ever the club sippin buzz really drunk and I see a fat booty
And then, 'twas brief and low—
Got to have it I'm a grab it cause its a habbit automatic like uzi, with the sick flow
I could not bear to live—aloud—
Make a chick go crazy and plastered tatta its redfoo the dude a true party rockaaaah
The Racket shamed me so—



SORRY FOR PARTY ROCKING

On: with wild abandon.

Somewhere in the vicinity of Welland a very big very dilapidated property sits. I would Judge the yard area to be at least two acres where stand, but just barely, two sheds, one barn and this house. The ceiling is holes, the floor a mishmash of rot and strange board games, and the floor also is holes.