Sunday 6 May 2007

This Is Not My Desire

Repent in hell fat boy. Daddy got you with the butchers knife right across your white slug neck. Wish I'd been there. Snatch pants for red on grey.

Fucking on the sill of floor 19. I should have known an odd number can't bode well. Your Friendly Butcher. My hostile cunt. We'll keep the jam rag flying. You are the son of bloody Pollok scum. Fear of heights is a terrible thing. More so when then it outweighs the fear of violation and dishonour. I still breathe. You can't fat fucking son of the scheme hoor.

Taking a doing is never easy. He bought me a tab and sent me mad with unwanted fucks and bad hippy music. I am the lizard king but I'm broken and can't do anything. Them was rotten days and he made me rot black like damp beast ridden wood.

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