JOhnny Stubtoe

I don't know why. I'm really not sure. Why exactly doesnt my wife toss me the fuck out? Im sure I smell like the ass end of a sewer, I rip butts on the sly end of a bender whilst wearing shorts that havent seen a wash since a Sabbath in June... Breathe son. Its August. Despite my short pants walking themselves tawahads the gahhbige can, I know I can relate towards one reader at least.
ok. more than likley none at all, i grow there in the dank. strutting roots in the dirt, sauntering like i have more than one lapel that isn't bent under my collar, spinach driven between my front teeth, teetering like a tike without a flipflop on a boardwalk.
Im a guy nowadays that makes retro seem before midnite. Im up most nites till 4. Tossing street trash at my twenties, the shadow of the facade that drapes my thirties hangs like a collage in my teenage bedroom. Blacklights backliting tears and hospital corners proffering cleanliness, rubbing one out after prom, crying before my mother died and being dry when she did.
Sputter cough, sputtacough, choke, choke, run.