||[May. 2nd, 2004|11:12 am]
|||||avoid the noid.||]|
how much killin' is there for a gangster to do? i'm not complaining about all the lead sandwiches i've been handing out, but my body sure is. its like this ache has its own name. belial is my guess, or one of the decanii. & my throat feels like i've been gargling sandpaper. but its all been worth it; fun times have been had. i don't know how to say this, so i'll just come out with it: at the bar we were at last night the bartenders danced on the counter like dignity was going out of style.