Gossip runs from one to one, leaving shit on ear and tongue.
His boots are caked with thick manure, from mucking out his filthy sewer.
The Busybody is his wife, he credits her his very life.
His words will spread like wildfire, to drag your name throughout his mire.
On those who share his words, he thinks, to leave on them his shitty prints.
To mark those who partake of him, and harm their fellow man, in sin.
Spoiled little rich kid.
Never grew up.
Only grew bitter.
Narcissistic, vane, pompous, arrogant,
Whiny little bitch.
For years I've known you and you haven't changed.
Bullied, threatened, screamed, broke down, yelled,
Damn near had a stroke.
But changed?
Your anger will kill you.
Trust me.
I know a few things about anger.
You try to control everything.
Everyone.
But yourself.
No one can change that.
The change has to begin with you.
You have to decide.
You want to quit when things get hard?
Don't go your way?
Waste your opportunities to grow.
To learn.
If it were easy it wouldn't be worth it.
Seek friends against imaginary
Gossip runs from one to one, leaving shit on ear and tongue.
His boots are caked with thick manure, from mucking out his filthy sewer.
The Busybody is his wife, he credits her his very life.
His words will spread like wildfire, to drag your name throughout his mire.
On those who share his words, he thinks, to leave on them his shitty prints.
To mark those who partake of him, and harm their fellow man, in sin.
Spoiled little rich kid.
Never grew up.
Only grew bitter.
Narcissistic, vane, pompous, arrogant,
Whiny little bitch.
For years I've known you and you haven't changed.
Bullied, threatened, screamed, broke down, yelled,
Damn near had a stroke.
But changed?
Your anger will kill you.
Trust me.
I know a few things about anger.
You try to control everything.
Everyone.
But yourself.
No one can change that.
The change has to begin with you.
You have to decide.
You want to quit when things get hard?
Don't go your way?
Waste your opportunities to grow.
To learn.
If it were easy it wouldn't be worth it.
Seek friends against imaginary
I don't give a damn; about you nor the consequences About the way it makes me nor you look, you fucking prick Uncouth, unprofessional, undignified, unworthy of equity I've put up with enough of this shit, and if I have to be Adorned in those words to give you honesty, then I'll Have them be synonymous with my own fucking name You and everyone I love will feel the quake of me ripping apart The earth, shattering mountains, and crushing trees out of All of the damn rage that I was taught to keep inside my Stupid heart, like it's a fucking blackhole I'm a goddamn human being, not a character that you can Morph into whatever the hell you want All of you will pay for the neglect that you've been Feeding me, expecting not a single mantra of Dissatisfaction to come out of my mouth Each of you will receive agonizing truth, See a side of me that you thought was never here, And give me what I've worked my ass off for Fuck
Gossip runs from one to one, leaving shit on ear and tongue.
His boots are caked with thick manure, from mucking out his filthy sewer.
The Busybody is his wife, he credits her his very life.
His words will spread like wildfire, to drag your name throughout his mire.
On those who share his words, he thinks, to leave on them his shitty prints.
To mark those who partake of him, and harm their fellow man, in sin.
Salga cleaned her axe on the paladins cloak before going through the mans belongings for valuables. He gurgled his protest, but was unable to do much more. “Do not worry little man,” Salga replied, smiling into the dying mans eyes, “you’ll be dead soon enough. Don’t feel to bad about it,” she laughed softly,” you put up a hell of a fight.” She gestured to the deep gash across her chest. “Not many have the skill to inflict such a wound upon me. Your god is no doubt proud of you.” Salga thought this must have brought peace to the mans heart, his face softened into a pained smile and hi
Current Residence: Texas deviantWEAR sizing preference: L Favourite genre of music: Loud Operating System: Human Mind Wallpaper of choice: wood paneling Skin of choice: callused Personal Quote: If it's not forever, I don't want it.
Soon to be released, a two passenger, 5 star rated, three wheeled automobile made in Louisiana. Expected fuel economy is 84 mpg and a sticker price expected to be about $6800.00.
You should totally check them out at www.eliomotors.com and think about reserving yours today. You can tell them I sent you and I won't get anything for it, but they might wonder who the hell I am, and that's enough for me.
Check out this video on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oq3nJb0CYTM&feature=youtube_gdata_player
'Cause you just gotta. I'm not in it and I didn't make it, it's just that awesome.
Please.
Oh, and yea I been out awhile. I'll figure out a way to fix that, eventually.
HI! SORRY SO LOUD! I FRIED MY VOLUME CONTROL IN A TRAGIC BAGEL ACCIDENT! DAMN RASINS! ANYWAY I WAS JUST WONDERING IF YOU HAD ANY THOUGHTS ON WRITING PART SIX OF THE GOOSE THAT LAID THE GOLDEN Turd... Crap. volume went out again. Just when ya think your gettin' your point across... I hate it when that shIT! OH! NEVERMIND IT'S BACK AGAIN! BUT ABOUT THE STORY! WHADDAYA THINK!? DAMN BAGels, cardboard toaster roasting radial...
That's why I quit bagels. Part six was lost, along with seven and eight, and I think nine in a computer crash. Never trust an eMachine. And always buckle up. I have it in my mind to redo them but I don't have the time, and when I do, it doesn't come out right. I need stress to write, and maybe a little rage. And I need my head to stop hurting. deviantART muro drawing
Weird, talking to you still feels like talking to me (which I still do plenty, talking to me, that is), even though it's been, what, better than seven years since last we've seen each other in person. Take care bro.