Vandalism was my generation. A few years shy of rape. We got tattooed and went to war – enacting the death ritual of ages. It’ll always be something. Gotta get at it. Ghetto attitudes with tidy paintwork. Tribal feud.

Everything is a façade until you grab it by the balls and make it real. Things were always falling on our heads – it’s a rockslide of projection as the slightly advanced delinquents scramble to slather their sins upon the next.

Fuck you above. That’s our claim to fame. No shouldering blame down here – we’re your children, assholes. Let it rot. Fucking mayhem. Who cares anymore?

Whatever happened to extremes? You eat dirt. I’ll eat pussy. Take a steaming Swiss cheese shit on my quivering tongue. Crunch, crunch. Fuck your mother. I hope you die. Not before you choke to death on my cock. You inbred cunt.

For a day-job I work in film set fabrication, but that's not nearly close to the feeling I get when I'm writing or creating music. I'm currently working on several screenplays, but this site is where I come to dump my quick-fire ramblings and expunge difficult emotions or experiences. I hope you take something from these writings. Each and every one of them comes from the heart.

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