hwan.com

So it seems that I am drunk and here I sit like a sad punk. Words I have or rather have not to describe my state of gridlock. Oh these rhymes they are so lame for they come from my very sloshed brain. Tequila it was that sour gold turned me up a velvet fold. More than this I will not say for tonight was not my day. Why is it that wherever I go there I am yet ne'er my goal? i plan to sleep in most joyous of joys to be under the sheets escaping morning noise soon I must end this most silly endeavor for my mental faculties are becoming less clever strange how imbibing can draw out my words normally my typing is nothing but burps wait no that's not right! that's not what I meant! it's just that i haven't any sense this moment bonne nuit, dear reader with ears so patient to the morning i travel my pillow adjacent Oh, and looking back now, those DAHS episodes aren't nearly so regrettable as I made them out to be.

Plan: To eat the greatest destructive force in the world. A TAIL OF WHOA Two bee red allowed (reed don the fist call uhm, den the say canned) Eye stud beef or duh wind oh pain, Too stair out awn the store me seen, The wind it blue, With grown and mown, As rein pored threw the lain. Aye razed my head to few the cite, And new my hart wood brake, Four, rested from hour would, Were awl the furs sew toll and grate, Know more to waive the see. Aisle ne'er fore get that all full knight, Acquire of thus all a shin maid, Buy hale and creek of bows, Yet still no paws or lesson, The whether it was fowl. Then shown atlas the mourning son, The heir now boar the fare suite cent, Of rows and hair belle whet, At piece the wind, knot sew my sole, Four their the land lei waist.