jakkidee

once there was a man who loved toenails. he would rummage in garbage cans specifically to find the little clippings people just throw out without a second thought. he could always find them because he had an acute sense of smell, and the smell of toenails was unlike any other. his name was not important. one day he was rummaging in garbage for toenails when a small girl approached him. "excuse me," she said, a little timid, for this man was wider than he was tall, and for a small child, that's pretty fucking terrifying, "but why are you going through the garbage?" "well you see," the portly man said tot he girl, "i love me some freshly cli

Summer would be perfect. Unlimited free time, parties every night, and shrooms galore. That's how we all saw it, anyway. Days spent on the commons, nights spent roaming the city streets. Girls in shorts and tank tops, men baring their chests without a moment's hesitation. It was all that sexual energy, I think, that made us really crazy. Well, of course, that and the barrage of drugs we found ourselves facing the opportunity to sample at any time. Those three months of sweltering heat and sticky bus seats were all we could think about, all we could wish for until the day the season officially arrived. June twenty-first, this year of our lord,

i love you more and more very time i hear your name i never thought the day would come when things would be his way i sit and wait to hear your voice and see your smiling face and every day i wonder wat got us to this place tears of sorrow and of joy have got me where i am and at this moment i cant think of any other man who's what you are to me and what youll always be you got me writing corny love shit, i guess thats how its meant to be

ten hundred years is how it seems and light year since ive known it the touch of something, something real and someone who could show it. i cannot cry for you at all i will not shed a tear nor can i laugh in times like these when all i see is fear. the tremble in those distant eyes, the ones that cannot see when space and time are not enough to keep you close to me a call for help that wont be heard is rustling through the trees, another soul lost to the depths of mediocrity i cannot cry for you this time for now its up to you ive done what can be done my friend, theres no more i can do.