it happens when you take a shit.

they shot him behind the store, then he ran into the woods. the guy on the smart end of the gun, the guy on the business end of the gun wasn't so lucky. he didn't run anywhere, except perhaps into St. peter, who busy unlocking the pearly gates for this gone too soon type. Maybe him and lucifer are bbq'n, id hope not, unless that was his thing. Drinking or smoking tea with shiva wouldn't be too bad. his name was simone kim, and he was considered deceased at 26 times around the sun. There wasn't a motive. the last guy with my name died on the shitter. i heard he was a good guy, enjoyed painting, riding bikes, and scotch. last night i fared better, i went to this chicks house and played piano on this old upright outtatune, this chick kept kissing my neck and telling me not to stop, i dont know her name or face, i'd like to keep it that way, i imagine she isn't much of a looker. they kept asking me to play fur elise. which is tough when 3 of the C's are missing their ivory and only speak mute to the rest of the world. Sign language is not good on piano keys. but i played it, and i was happy to, cause its the only fucking song i can play all the way through. mary had a little lamb, or oh susanna and i wouldve been fucked, with no neck kissing. then my ride left me. this has been a commonplace event lately, and if luck wasn't pissing in the wind on me, i dont know where i would be right now.