When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol’ Jack Burton […]
This is week 500 for Unconscious Mutterings. I don’t remember what week I joined. I say … and you think … ? Call :: Waiting (c’mon, the other is too obvious) Instinct :: Basic. And by that I mean Sharon Stone. Toffee :: Ice cream Cleaner :: Scrubbing bubbles Gut :: Instinct Leveled :: Crooked […]
Down crooked stairs, and sideways glances Comes the king of second chances Now throw him in the flame Whatever keeps you warm at night…