Friday is my day
To do what I want
Friday is my day
To go out and haunt
To fly into the night
To dance
To do some sightseeing
To entrance
To seduce the pants
Off mortal beings
Or to stay in bed
And watch the moon
As a graveyard
Green fog
Envelops my tomb
Enough to to raise
Even the most
Dead of dead
That not even the brunt swacks
Of the biggest blunt attacks
Will keep me down for long
Cause Friday is a day
To flaunt
Friday is the day
To do what I want

That I’m still out there, writing god only knows?

Under a sydonym of course. My writing became too weird. Too strange. Too gross.

So if you stopped on by looking for a sign. Here it is:

I’M OUT THERE, WRITING, DOING MY WORST.

BWUEAHA

HA

HA