I miss your smell. When you left, I couldn’t wash the sheets because I didn’t want to lose that completely… You. And… it fucked me up for a long time because I would wake up and I’d smell you and I’d think you were there. And that would… My heart would break all over again. I think that’s why I go in for the kiss all the time. I know, yeah. I think I’m going for… another hit.
Hell-A Magazine blog number one. Hank hates you all. A few things I’ve learned in my travels through this crazy little thing called life. One: a morning of awkwardness is far better than a night of loneliness. Two: I probably won’t go down in history, but I will go down on your sister. And three: while I’m down there, it might be nice to see a hint of pubis. I’m not talking about a huge’70s playboy bush or anything, just something that reminds me that I’m performing cunnilingus on an adult. But I guess the larger question is, why is the city of angels so hell-bent on destroying its female population?