Blessed with the best inclination and yet you chose to dismiss the godly perfection; “well that’s too bad.”
I have an idea, why don’t everybody just go back to their country of origin; you know back to your lands—shotgun, I’m first—because I think that we have all just over-welcomed our visit haven’t we and it’s starting to stink now.
“Let me put on these gloves while I paint because Heaven forbid that I’m discovered as a day job painter; in any case, I hope they would be proud of me now because that’s the closest I get from looking like a real doctor.”
Tomorrow is never a guarantee, so I like to keep my dishes clean and my mind ready.
The girl says; “I want no salad.” I’m pleased to hear that, now here’s some peanuts.
You know the bohemian way of life living; yeah, do that shit with my coffee and I’ll whip yo ass.
The girl says; “You hurt my feelings.” I’m pleased to hear that, now where does it hurt.
The girl says; “I want honesty.” I’m pleased to hear that, now how do you go from talent to shit.
If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for your killer—nobody wants to deal with a fat dead body.
Clean and cold, or warm and dirty.