that red demi god hand

the philic admiration that one gets from the little demons no matter the crooked evolution of one's fierce phragmatic stream of existence is something that i do not understand. all the weekends of abandon and burping whiskies up their little nostrils on the contrary proved rather hypnotic to cloud their eyes for the sunday afternoon departure. i gave up so i take pleasure in the details. tha night i threw up lots slowly peeled me off. i pee on the bowl and the toilet floor got all flooded that's my piss. the day the faucet knob broke fell on the sink sprayed spit up my face when i go chasing dead roaches at 3AM slipped on the bathroom floor my head hit the wall stripped myself of any responsibility. it's a statutory preference to slowly strip myself off of any and all the responsibilites of a keeper to be in the position of a tucker now. the legions and the nymphs the salingers the bull pack the medlocs and the argonauts should be on their own now. there's no more telling the whip cream from the shaving cream when it sits on your coffee enjoying a sip sitting on the toilet bowl good night hercules.