you really don't want to fuck with me right now.

"i'll fake it through the day with some help from johnny walker red."

i was all fine well and good until i crawled back into my own unowned color of easter of pastel of god why am i here.

until i crawled back into things like "i miss you lindsay, when are you coming home?"

until i crawled back into not knowing where home is, anymore.

until i decide that i'm not going to crawl anymore.

until i take another shot of whisky and do what my mom taught me ... stand up. life's too fuckin short.

and my boot looks really fuckin good on your face.