The life of Mr. Frank.

I am not special.

Others are, but I am not.

I challenge Sambookah to a hookah-off.

That mutherfucker doesn’t know shit. I want to put him in his place so badly. Lol.

A very overdue slam: “Hard Knocks”

I’m watching low-budget music videos through the eye of a colt 45, wasting my time and life away, tonight is about immorality and making bad decisions. This not-so-heaven hill soothes my worries and burns my throat, I never drink off my problems. I never drink off my problems, I NEVER. DRINK OFF. MY PROBLEMS. Except for you. Don’t talk to me about the real world I’ve been there and back whilst finding time to fuck up the things that matter. It’s a hard knock life knocking down double D knockers, rocking the cock and cock-blocking the thought that the tocking and ticking of my clock and all the lonely cum stains on my sock somehow validate this shitty excuse for the “single life”, that’s a crock of shit.

I can learn some Portuguese, I can take you on dates you need to Kings Island and ride the rides while we touch our knees and ride our fingertips through the breeze like all this sap from your trees was meant to be, seen leeching the salt water from my spacious seas, not some half assed dedication from your latest squeeze.. But enough of the sap, my fingers are sticky, much stickier than any sticky icky that I feel the need to flick into a bowl filled with our memories, this is what I wanted.

God.. listen to me, back tracking and back pedaling, I’m riding dirty in a circle and meddling in darker times and substances but what is it worth, just some half constructed sentences and the chance of child birth, this is what I wanted. Funny in comparison, how I write this not with sincerity or sobriety but with a self vengance in an alcohol induced lobotomy, whilst all you wanted was less simplicity and a chance to get into me other than beneath the sheets. But hey, this is what I wanted.

Metal below the waist and love interests in other places, there’s spaces where faces should be in my life but hey, I wanted to get wasted. Races to change races making cut off shirts and single life crazes, my pace is defeated while left in chases to catch up to the life I for some inexplicable reason wanted. This is what I wanted.


I’ll deserve you when I get what I deserve, I need a learning curve to keep me from swerving in and out of beautiful things in my life, fighting off the urge to return with whispers of role models in my ear telling my it’s time to stay away.

This, is what I wanted?

YOLO this, cunts.

Tonight I’m going to get immoral. I’m drinking and smoking. I’m going to destroy myself and forget tonight, and especially today. I’m going to puke and cough, get teary eyed and pass out. I’m going to do exactly what they say not to do, and reach a whole new level of shit faced to run away from problems. I don’t want to hold your hand, i don’t want to meet girls or mac on the ladies. I don’t want to “get serious” and I don’t want to get your number. Tonight, I’m wasting away.

Turn up? Tch. Fuck my life.

:/ Man. This is kinda shitty.

Photo

Tuesday Dave will have Monday Dave. IDGAF. FANTASTIC MONDAY!!!

vvvvv Did I mention below me is a freestyle vvvvv

Link

You’re turning into the stereotypical ex.

I hope it doesn’t end that way.

A coward?

Let’s look at things in perspective here. The one thing about all this that doesn’t make me completely miserable is that I get to do what I want, when I want to, how I want to do it, and who I do it with.


Don’t ever underestimate the power of choice.