Your Friendly Neighborhood

This is a blog. Right now it kind of sucks, but maybe one day it'll be good.


That febreeze can though…

She forgot the one where they position their hand over the balls in an attempt to make their dick look bigger.

(Source: soft-ghetto-tomatoes)

And wether we meet again in another wicker basket, fresh and grown.

Or in the slums of a garbage can, dejected and rotting.

Or side by side before death, 

corroding together in someone’s stomach

as acid burns our flesh.

I will always be happy.  Because, no matter what,

I’ll have you.

I just wrote the most beautiful piece I’ve ever written.  Fuck.  This is emotional.  I’m so happy.