Messenger of fear in sight

.: Currently listening to Metallica's Master of Puppets.

Fuckin' a. I don't care what I say about their '90's career-and I say a lot, about how badly it sucked.

But jesus christ on a pogostick getting hummers from Ann Coulter, that album stomps the living shit out of everything. Turn that bitch up to 11 and scare the neighbors.

Because sometimes, that's the only thing that makes any fucking sense.

Something that's louder than everything else.

Brew Day

.: It's time. I've put it off far longer than I meant to, but today...
I brew.

I'm making a Dunkle. No, I don't exactly know what that means. But it looked interesting and dark, like my halfbeaten heart, so I'm going for it.

Besides, it's a good 3 weeks before I find out if it's any damn good...and foist it off on any unsuspecting fool who has to drink the crap I brewed up.
But I hope not. I hope it comes out great and I get hella drunk.

Tonight; Twilight Singers. Sexy.

Oh, Aaron, wherefore art thou?

Why I'm not voting Republican

.: "I don't think I'm good enough in bed to fuck if I
vote republican. And there's no way you're that
desperate."

Shit; is any Republican good enough in bed to fuck?

Today's wisdom

.: "The point is: I don't care how fat you are; you don't travel south of the Mason-Dixon line for pussy."

Brought to you by The Onion.

Fucking computers

.: It's late. I'm tired. I want to make a post on my web site and I can't-but this has to do with not being able to put a new music file up.

So.
The fucking cat is meowing-and it's not my cat-and I'm tired.

Saw some dreamscrewing things at the SG event tonight. Good times. But I won't claim..well much considering my alcohol leve.