Thousands of empty beer cans are masking the true nature of my odour.
So, compared to them, I smell like John Gotti.
The Don is back.
Don Ciavarro.
He's come to make you an offer you can't refuse.
...
Someone. Clean my fucking house.
Scrub my balls for Christ sake.
Two balls for the two bit hack I am. I am not sing song. I am barely literate.
I take bad photos that make my writing look decent.
I am terrible at blogging.
But.
I'm awesome at being me.
Plus I have a shiny car.
It's all I have to give.
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