What would Jimmy Trade For A Fat Snap?

Nowadays, there a very few things keeping me from being that guy that sits down drunk to talk to a dog in a hallway; and there are even fewer things keeping me from having a meaningful conversation.

Ruff?! Shit may be and when the arcs bend like that, until they bulge at the snapping point like a sapling in the wind. That is where we smack with the hatchet, hacking straight through the fibers.

Leaving the house with the dryer on, wondering when the Bounce sheet will burst into flames. Lint left more than the UK Subs when he ripped angrily through our speakers, I should say mine, unless you've been left Rancid like me.

Bark. Peeled backed like the foreskin of their souls and whilst Mycock Realty sells houses on my isthmus I must, be that one who admits. Towards my home I did matriculate.

I am an immigrant. I plopped my under-roos upon the land called CAPE- god at the age of six, I shit.

Green Pond, I left it.

Beg My Pardon.

Learning to write with a deadline I left with a red one.

LongLive the INKLINKs

Dave