Sleepy Time Caffine

Im just slowly melting away. I need caffine. I came on here in a desprete attempt to wake myself up. Im too sluggish today. I have yet to kick one puppy. I have yet to blacken my lungs. I have yet to appear at a retirement home to feed my feces in the cafeteria. Sleep and rest is well needed. Since my brain is functioning correctly, i'll just put up a picture that Noel Middleton drew at my house.

I need Sleepy Time tea with many doses of caffine pills.

LIFE

LIFE

Life is trouble. It’s full of terrible tragedies that heap up on you and you are then forced to muscle your way out of that conglomeration.

He walks into class thinking of her knowing that he’ll never have her. Understanding this then plunges him into an abysmal pit of depression. He comes home to his guitar thinking about how beautiful she is and how unlucky he is. How she's so happy. The way she smiles. But he knows he’ll never have what he wants.

Then arrives the Emo punk music.

Then comes loss of color in wardrobe.

Then comes the book of melancholy poems.

Then comes his very own Emo-Alternative band.

Then comes the rush of confidence that is then blown down after he realizes that he is in line. In this line for the girl is a channel of, what she considers, dreamy men. He returns to bed with thoughts that keep him up all night. His thoughts are most something resembling

“Im the one for her.”

“We have so much in common.”

“No one would treat her better or love her like I do”

Or something of this sort.

Then comes the emotional self-abuse. He bashes your self all night. Then those insults escalate to physical self abuse thoughts. But in all honesty, he just don’t have the balls. Which brings on more insults by himself. He is made sick by emotions. Headaches, Stomach aches. The comes heart aches. He thinks he is dying in the night. His heart actually begins to hurt. He actually feels as though his heart is breaking. He can’t call out for help because apparently his lungs have collapsed as well. He is stuck in his bed to suffer in a pool of self pity.

He crawls into the bathroom to vomit out his depression in physical form.

Wakes up in the morning with a headache.

This is just one part of life.

Teenage life.

But don’t complain.

At least you have life.

Im A Beautiful Teacher

I despise children. I want them all enslaved. I want them to devour my sweat oatnut bread and be forced to work with senile old men with tourettes.
Im Lying.
I had to sub for a high school biology class today. When i first set foot in the classroom, the students were all in there correct seats and seemed very well behaved. I figured that I might not have to use the torture devices that I brought along. No children are well behaved. Not in the center of this hellish city. I close the door and scan the pimpled faces across the room. I smell the evil in the little behemoths. The white board calls for my signature. My name is now plastered for the class to see.
"Good morning, horible little cretins. My name is Mr. Deathmonger and i'll be your substitute for today." Accompanying my hair-raising name was an all black pen stripe suit and i blood stained red tie.I dyed the tipes of my black dreads a crimson red. Bwahaha! This black suit case with biohazard signs and skulls on it really help. Sporting Piercings all over my face was probaly what made is hard for the retched students to look at my face. All the worried murmers that filled the room became quiet when I slammed on the teachers desk. I push the lever and the top pops up. I hide my head in and rustle around. While going through my jungle of torture devices and mutated bunnies, I took a peek at the students.
They're Horrified.
Twas so heart warming to see their faces so difgruntled. I made a quick prayer for my children to wake up that afraid every morning beecause of me.
I think they were afraid of what i might pull out of my suitcase.
They Should Be.

"Today we shall be dissecting live genetically enhanced armadillos."

CLOSURE

CLOSURE

Why is there another empty note in my phone. I need words.
I crave fine literature.
I need to read things that draw my interest instead of reading things that i know i can somewhat rely on.
I need to read books in a foreign language.
I need a library of all bilingual content so i can speak in tongues.
I need tongues. Tongues that hug and caress and let me know that they care.
And now im steering off track with my metaphor.
And now im no longer walking the simple ongoing path that leads me in the straight direction.
I
Need
Closure.
Moreover
I
Need
Help.
Bunk You.
Nah leave you dry.
Please curl over, choke and die.

No Freedom Nor Trust Involved

No freedom nor trust involved.

I need the freedom that was enstated to my name.

I need what I deserve.

I and I deserve freedom.

I and I deserve the trust for we have done nothing to give you reason not to trust.

Whose co workers are they.

They see you at the workers convention but you dont work with them on a day to day basis in the same facility.

I deserve sleep.

I feel as though the insomnia owes me a large sum of unconsciousness.

I hate you brain.

Why must you cause me to think so much to the point where I hurt my inner being.

I need a brain block to stop my brain from sliding into the dark places that i dont want my thoughts to be.

I Need Space.

Micheal Jackson

Im sitting in front of my humongus window 208 stories in the sky above the city. My computer lays in front of me on the desk. The warmth of Sleepy time tea laced with poison consumes my chest. I look at different web gossip and tabloids. Celebrity news. Info of people that I want dead. I get mad and write a 13 page complaint under a video of Perez Hilton being a hipocrite and pansy on youtube. Im glad Will. I. Am. punch the pink haired fruitbasket. He looks like the devil. I head back to the evil headquarters. The search engine that will take of the world and smash everyone back into a slave state of mind. "What the blue devil blazes is this!!!" I see a piece of information that shocks me. I quickly search the web in a frantic attemp to find more info on the situation. Is this actually happening? Someone this big?!?! Is Micheal Jackson really about to die??? As much as people tear him to pieces on sketch comedy shows, they all still love him. I dont love, but if i did i would feel a super special way about this. After I get tired of looking for the story, i get up, light my chalise and gaze out my excessivly large window.

I need white socks.

HorribleSexyDrunk and Ken Sato

This is the HorribleSexyDrunk speaking to you live from the basement of my drug dealer's house. He is passed out in his bathroom so I decided to rummage through his cabinet of well orginized drugs. His supply gets bigger and bigger everytime i come here. Im gonna end up going wild with his supply and wake up dead tomorrow morning. I bet you wish that made sense. Anyway, I happened to run into my pansy younger cousin, Ken Sato. He is the epitome of disgrace. A perfect example of everything I strive not to be. He's a romantic lovesick woman chaser. He drowns himself in sorrow over females and gets into deep relationships while putting his not-blackened-enough heart on the line. He's a romantic. I hate him. I met up with him when I was pouring blazing hot coffee on a toddlers head in starbucks. He saw me. As he realized who i was, he ran over and yelled, "Uncle Drunk!!!" in that mid-teen emo-pop voice that annoys me so. I looked up, threw the rest of the broiling coffee on a College student. My eyes raised to the sky as i thought, "someone please set me ablaze and let me hug him. He jogs over to me even though im only three feet away from him. He has the utmost annoying grin splattered across his face.
HSD: "Bring me your face."
Ken: "huh?"
HSD "bring me your FACE!!!"
He drags his face closer to mine. I word to him "I shall slap you"
I cock my hand as far behind my head as I can. The force of the release is so forceful. The impact of my hand sent a shock through everybody in Starbucks body. His body defied physics and gravity. He went flying through the large exorbitant window. He pops back up from the ground as if nothing had just happened or it happens very often and he's used to it. He brushes the pieces of glass off his and climbs through the shattered window. After he regains composure, we sit down with cups of coffee prepare by frightened employees that have been threatened by yours truley. He has a saddened look on his face. He begins to tell me a story of the what happened and why he has that look.
It shall be revealed in the romantic, action story of Ken Sato.
(Uhhh, Romance. *vomit*blech*

Becoming HSD: Part 2

I had reached home from a long walk of yelling at random elderly people. This might have been one of the most dissappointing mornings i've endured for a long time. Just thoughts of how played i was,yet satisfied at the beatdown i had left, left me in awe. I walk through my apartment door. The smell of week old chinese food consumes the little bit of clean oxygen that is swimming through my lungs. I vomit a little bit in my mouth. Then i search out the source of the rotten chinese food. I rummage around the house like a police dog searching for the stolen drugs. After 35 seconds i give up. I raise off my paws and walk into my bedroom. I plop down face first onto my bed. A "SPLAT" sound comes from under my face. I found the Chinese food. I get up and yell profane words. The towel that i wipe my face with was appearently used to wipe vomit off a dog's tongue after a long night of partying with the humans. I decide to just take a shower. I turn the water on to a broiling hot temperture. I walk into the kitchen and decide to take three cancer sticks out a pack and light. I have no lighter. Today is a day like no other. Cant like my RazeLungs and my face is covered with chinese food, dog drool and drunk druggie vomit. The thought of throwing heavy things out the window of my 20 story high apartment window while screaming the reasons why i hate this city, had crossed my mind but i instead took the alternate choice. I look for another way to light my sticks of death before my water gets shut off. After a long ten minutes of trying to get household items to combust into flames, I just go light it with the stove. I light three. I step into the shower with dirty saliva in my throat. I wash the putrid filth off my face. As the blisteringly hot water runs through my dirty black locks i think about why today was a terrible day. I think about how this girl create a terrible blue aura around me. She put me in such a bad mood. She screwed me over. She was not who i thought she was. But whose fault was that for beliveing. But why do i care. Why do i get myy feelings so caught up in the little things that hold no real value within slowly chugging heart. Why do I sometimes think in past tense then switch back to present tense. All questions whose answers really mean nothing. And i could care less. I step out the shower with a nonchalant, careless feeling. I say BUNK the towel. I drip all over the house. I turn on lights with the curtains open so the night time city civilians can all witness a sight that all hope to witness and behold. Wet nakedness makes me happy.

HSD & Richaard Hinkle

I was conversating with a good friend of HorribleSexyDrunk. He filled my mind with terrible images so i had to leave. I went in the bathroom to cry and vomit. "He reminded me so much of HorribleSexyDrunk!" I said as I bellowed into the toilet bowl with tears dripping down my face. While i was upchucking my puppy jelly sandwhich, HSD went out to talk to his terrifying friend, Richard Hinkle.

The greeted each other with headbutts, aggro chest bumps and lighting each other's LungRaze cigarettes.

I was watching through the cracked bathroom door.

They sat down and turned on the television and began yelling and cursing at the TV. Then, at the exact same time, they rose off the couch in a rage of fury and mashed their feet into the face of the TV. They pulled their feet out with glass shards skewered through their shins and calves. They continued cursing at it, as if they were the bullies in gym, yelling at the poor nerd who missed the winning shot.

I saw the TV shed a tear.

Then once their body tempature reduced from 159 back down to their regular temp, 106, they returned to their seats and started chuckling.

They began remeniscing about past events......that they hate.

but they still laughed and seemed happy.

Then the talked about things of the present and the conspiracy and aliens posing as the president and building their army of cute, rabid animals...

The list goes on.

This conversation of theirs forced my head back into the toilet to vomit. I saw my happiness spread across the toilet water. Twas flushed down the drain.

I realized i might be the only sane person in this house.

Twix Mecka is a skater thats flipping retarted because of all the coke his parents forced him to eat with his baby food as a child.

HorribleSexyDrunk is a terrible living hate machine and there are way to many reasons why. i couldnt list all the terrible this he has done and been through.

The new curly haired detesting monster, Richard Hinkle, is almost just as bad as HSD.

Except he eats way more popsicles while HSD eats melted mammals on a stick.

I need somebody sane to go through the pain of living in this house with me.

Oh, i should call my friend Ken Sato s---

Richard kicked the door. It had bashed straight into my nose. i flung back and landed in a purple puddle of vomit on the ground. Appearently they had realized that i had been listening in on their conversation. They didnt approve of my actions. For the next 15 hours non-stop, i felt the rath of their big black and purple boots.

I Hate It Here

-Levon Gordon

Rabid Kittens Rule

HSD: I just hit Levon over the head with crowbar and knocked him out. Wait a minute, this is a jelly filled churro. That just shows how weak he is. I hadnt realized that he had been writting down our conversation and i shall have him killed for that. Twix has left to ride a piece of wood. I dug a deep pit in front of his ramp. He wont be back. Now i shall tell you what this page will be about. It will tell the story of my horrid disgraceful life. It shall make you sick and often my your pet bunnies cry while attacking each other in the basement. Every once in a while it will show brief previews of Twix Mecka's story. But it wont be as good as mine because he lives in a futuristic hell-hole filled with over polluted air and AIDs is in the water.

Twix Mecka comes stumbling through the door like Monk A after a long night. He's covered in sweat and is trying to catch his breath.

TM: DUDE!!! cough! cough! I was skating on the half-pipe and decided to go off the ramp for some air. So i start kicking and pushing toward the ramp and a very angry kitty walks in front of my board. I stopped cause i didnt want to injure the awesome kitty. When i stepped off the board and bent to see if it was alright, It jumped up and attacked my face. Then he let out a screech and called his leigon of evil pink eyed kitties. DUDE!!! IT WAS LIKE 600 OF THEM!!! THEY CAME THROUGH LIKE SPARTANS!!!

HorribleSexyDrunk sits there with a menacing grin on his face that Twix doesnt notice because he is so involved with his own story.

TM:Then all the evil, yet cute, kitties attacked me. They jumped me until i fell in a ditch. I was in there for about three hours. HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE ME BEING GONE DUDE!?!?

HSD: I guess i lost track of time when I, uhhhh, fell asleep.

TM: Oh, ok. but anyway, they kitties kiinda calmed down once we were all mashed in the pit. surprisingly we started to bond in there. I even named them all.

HSD: All 600?

TM: yup! There was twinkle toes, Meat, Mohskini, Butter Balls...

HSD: I get it.

TM: but then after like two hours they got really pissy and started going crazy and just started scratching everything in sight. That included me. About 450 of the kitties were dead by the time i escaped the pit.

HSD: That would explain why your covered in purple blood.

TM: Yea. Im just thanking God that i made it out of that death pit. I wondered how all of that happened in such good sequence. Its as if someone planned it. Dug the pit, injected the kittens with rabies and sent them after me.

HSD: Now which terrible son of a polygamist would do that???

HorribleSexyDrunk pets the kitten in his lap.

Preview of The Tithes

Throw my board over the fence leap half way and climb the rest. Swing my body over while hoping to land straight on the board and smoothly sail on. It doesnt happen. I stumble a bit but regain composure, grab my board and hop on it. I'm on my way to the other side of the alley with my boys beside my. 

I see flashing lights.

We quickly turn back to run back to the other side but a cop car crashes in and blocks off the end of the alley. We turn back around again and start running our polluted little hearts out, hoping that we might just make it out. Three police cars pull in front of that exit. we stop. I glance over to my friends on the left, then on the right. it only takes a second to sense the fear inside of their souls right now. I start sweating. I cant really come to this. Not now. Alo looks down and says something quietly to me.

"Twix. We're not going out like this. It wont end now. If we dont fight back then our mission will never be complete."

Noway looks over.

"We got this man. Its time we took it back."

They seem to always fill me with confidence. There was now an army of police officers and machines crawling into the alley-way from all directions like swarming spiders. They're ready to kill skaters. Unfortinetly we're the ones with boards in out hands. Its about time we took back over Lessonica. Im ready to start this war and to finish it. 

"Today, WE TAKE BACK LESSONICA!!!!!"

We proceed to war. 10 of us against a army of millions.

We will take back our city.