Note to Self

I will admit, I did not find this drunken poem on a Tuesday

Every life is a death sentence, lacking punctuation- in my case, in the case of the living who like me, have pushed time off like a discomforting reality. I write this for you, stewing out in the cold as you feed upon my regurgitated gestation. Later on. Eventually. All the way til tuesday. Eat me- a*****e.

Reviews

[Rye]

goodness - straight to the point. love it

[Nesu]

Love this so much. Speaks volumes.

[Asante]

This is hilarious. I'm glad I stumbled upon it.
No pseudo-intellectual commentary to follow; good stuff!

[Jas]

This made me laugh, it's great