Maybe I'll slit my wrists for Christmas. A present of red for the white white snow. Maybe I'll snort a little coke and fuck until dawn on Christmas day. Maybe I'll pass out and stay out not waking until the holiday is dead. Maybe I'll roll over and fetch a bone in honor of Christ's birth. Maybe I'll shoot you, offer you a gift of a bullet between the eyes. Maybe I'll become you for Christmas, just one day until I decide to stay. You never know with Eddie. You never know.
5 comments:
I hope you got that throat kick I left in your stocking you asshole.
That sounds exactly like my Christmas this year Eddie!
My father died coming down the chimney dressed as Santa on this very day 28 years ago.
I received this blog for Christmas and want to return it.
I googled "bike horn" for Christmas and this is what the internet brought me? I'll never go online again.
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