Dead Ahead
Predator Press
[Mr Insanity]
As a kid, I once witnessed a barfight.
I remember seeing blood on the pool table soaking into the green velvet --and it was the "blackest" black you could imagine.
Maybe it was the lighting.
Today, I'm a living testament that there is nothing that can't be outdone.
It’s noon on New Years Day, and I’ve already screwed up all five of my “Resolutions”. And as soon as this artsy Bohemian chick wakes up, I’m breaking number four a few more times. Hopefully she will simply leave without incident afterward, not arrogantly hoping to toy with my little black heart like an amateur surgeon binging on whiskey and PCP.
I’ve had my fill of that, thanks. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.
Admittedly, this is not the product of “social” drinking; this is the result of balls-out wanton and savage revenge drinking. I remember watching "Leaving Las Vegas" on Christmas Eve –a great feelgood romance comedy that’s fun for the whole family, I might add-- trying to muster strength from a vacuum to continue wrestling these demons. "The Fisher King" carried me for a little while. But not a violent man, I have no recourse but to turn unmanaged rage inward. So why deny it? I have catching up to do.
Well, there’s always today. Death by inches, while cowardly, can be very worthwhile with some creative effort. With a little hard work, luck, perseverance, and a lot of accelerants, it won’t take much time at all to be completely destroyed altogether. This coupled with some advance planning and an optimistic ‘can-do’ attitude can even make being slowly murdered fun; just lather, rinse, repeat. The details will take care of themselves.
Bungled and botched, I’ve woken up on the wrong side of the Millennium.
And I've learned to accept it.
[Mr Insanity]
As a kid, I once witnessed a barfight.
I remember seeing blood on the pool table soaking into the green velvet --and it was the "blackest" black you could imagine.
Maybe it was the lighting.
Today, I'm a living testament that there is nothing that can't be outdone.
It’s noon on New Years Day, and I’ve already screwed up all five of my “Resolutions”. And as soon as this artsy Bohemian chick wakes up, I’m breaking number four a few more times. Hopefully she will simply leave without incident afterward, not arrogantly hoping to toy with my little black heart like an amateur surgeon binging on whiskey and PCP.
I’ve had my fill of that, thanks. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.
Admittedly, this is not the product of “social” drinking; this is the result of balls-out wanton and savage revenge drinking. I remember watching "Leaving Las Vegas" on Christmas Eve –a great feelgood romance comedy that’s fun for the whole family, I might add-- trying to muster strength from a vacuum to continue wrestling these demons. "The Fisher King" carried me for a little while. But not a violent man, I have no recourse but to turn unmanaged rage inward. So why deny it? I have catching up to do.
Well, there’s always today. Death by inches, while cowardly, can be very worthwhile with some creative effort. With a little hard work, luck, perseverance, and a lot of accelerants, it won’t take much time at all to be completely destroyed altogether. This coupled with some advance planning and an optimistic ‘can-do’ attitude can even make being slowly murdered fun; just lather, rinse, repeat. The details will take care of themselves.
Bungled and botched, I’ve woken up on the wrong side of the Millennium.
And I've learned to accept it.
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