"i'm never in a bad mood; i just hate everyone. its totally different!"
for a whole bunch of black blots it sure hurts my eyes to stare at it. you know, that old familiar tug, veins bulging black & trying to rip themselves free of their fleshy moorings. i mean, it only makes sense that when the once familiar constellations cross below the horizon they turn into silhouttes of themselves & keep on sinking. why fade to black when you can get all shadow puppet? you know i have a hard-on for taking scissors to anything. everything, really, if we're getting specific. but hey, heck, hell comes complete with all the different varieties of brimstone anybody could ask for. & if it takes damnnation to fire up these cannons then so be it! fly forth your dark pennents, baronets! & all under my flag will our space hulks come, shivering the timbers of the earth with their ley. then: the hacksaws!