I swear...

For (*&%'s sake.

I'm sorry if my complaints have been thrown upon weary ears, but I still have feelings like throwing up on eerie wear- and-tear teams of creepy things wearing plain white tee's and tearing away at the fabric of our being while we're being fucked over by our same f*****g overused, well-to-do childhoods that slapped us in the face all-in-all helping us realize that all-in-all we're just lies held up and tied together with shoe laces and dolls' faces, painted puzzles and plastics tray shards of glass and passed on, as in hand-me-down, hand-me-downs asshats and a*s clowns. Painted faces and frowning frowns clowns frowning around towns covered in towers built with plastic power and... and worn-out leather.

Like whether or not the weather would rather be wetter or dryer, like a washer and dryer, of clothes...

...you know?