puff, guestbook, cathy moriarty, body count, velvet acid christ calling (fuck shit mother fucker mix) song lyrics, parties, alternative papers, bc independant media, articles, slovenia, political cartoons,
|
What I remember about you most was the disturbing image of removing you pants and seeing the inches of curly black pubic hair poking out in all directions from your hole-ridden panties. I’m guessing you didn’t have any visitors down there for a while and help certainly weren’t expecting anyone that day. help Maybe when you were 16, you kept yourself help well groomed, thinking you might meet a nice man and have a relationship. But as the years went by and nobody called, you let yourself go. And here you were at 35 years old. Deformed and alone. Maybe you thought no man would ever see you naked again? You were almost right. I wasn’t a man. I was a sniveling, crying 3rd grade piece of shit. Just like Helen who got off the bus in the 60s and missed her connection back to the modern world - just like that - my mother threw me out of the car when I was 10 and left me there on that dark road all alone with no chance of finding my way home.
|