russian john's summer death wrench

[debotchco]

this weather has snapped in me the last twig of moral reserve.
i long to dig in my yard like a wreched dog and twist my flea riddled
dirt- shell in the remains of my ancesters. as above, so below uncle hermmes used to wheez. memories of my fleeting spirit turn my testicals into deified speed bumps reminding my ass not to go to far. such is existanse, ever seeking the evolutional singilarity so that the almighty can at once destroy it. content to wile out in the shower in case the rain isnt dirty enough, i step out and pee.....ready to face the deum.