BULSHIT Yr a Postman!!!

 Botched Suicide?
Dreamlike Wisconsin emo trysts?
What was I thinking?

I feel like I just woke up from a misery coma.  Like I've been living somebody else's sissy life.
Came out from under her fat hips and no one's happy.  She didn't come, my lips hurt from all that spitty blubby blabbering, and now what?

I'm a Mustang in a bucket!  
Cuz It's Summer man lets get out there and Junebug it!  Wear a Speedo to work day!
Make them talk to you.  Then say nothing.

Let's seclude the color-blind from society.  Give me an Epidural of Shut the Fuck Up and leave me to my own sweet tooth devices.
I've got big plans!
BIG PLANS!

A weekend cabin in the woods and always a new mask to rub her behind.
Shiny shoes, faded jeans, whirlwind jacket and a two-day beard.

Big plans never looked this good.

Didn't you catch the Memo?

No more poetry and fuckin weeping willows.
No more Jack Johnson or Coldplay.  Play me the Jukebox Pogues and while we toast to poor-old-me, pour old me a Tennessee Whiskey, hike up them skirts a little higher all ye 16 yr olds of the sweaty dancefloors Mexicana.  I've got some deposits to make.
I've got some cheat codes to execute.

And I suggest you join me.

Thassit for now fuckers.

-D'M,.M