Cool me down or fuel the fire...your call
I need an outlet, one you can plug me into. I'm charged, amped, wired for 220, and I think a little bit crazy. No, I mean really crazy. Fly is exhausted and I'm going to jolt some energy into her weary soul.
I may be feeding off of all of you, you know like one of those eel looking things that attaches to a fish and just hangs there. Except I'm going to send the nourishment your way because I don't think you need to have anything else sucked from you given the raw emotion I've been seeing from several of you lately. It's OK, I have extra. I have so much it pops my eyes open about 4 AM every morning. I do a reality check. Am I awake? Fuck yup, wide.
Some of your posts pissed me off, I think I told you if yours did. Some made me sad, I might have mentioned that too. Some were quite arousing. I generally don't keep my arousal a secret either. There was some reach out stuff and I'm always a sucker for that.
Maybe it would be better, rather than latching onto you, if I just do a laying on of hands or hook our minds up with mind jumper cables and give good things to you. Some of you I can read without the hookup, don't ask me how, just believe that I can. It's not something I need to lie about so just trust it and go with it. I would never hurt you.
Or maybe it's time for Rick and I to head out at midnight, has to be midnight, on our road trip to come infuse you one at a time. Or we could do group infusions cause he's a wired boy too and we could power a small town just by parking on main street. It's hot, damn it was hot yesterday, but we wouldn't use the air conditioner, just all windows down and blues and bullshit blasting. The kind of smoking boy blaring wheel turning that makes you lift your top when we pass without us even asking just because we make you want to and you know it's the right thing to do. Through Texas and up through Oklahoma and he knows the way I don't so onto California at some point, and there are lots of borders there I know so we would do border towns. I can't speak Spanish but I like Hispanic girls a lot so that will probably make up for it. Rick can tell em what I mean but I think they'll get it anyway. Northern California too of course and to Canada through Washington, infusing, and bemusing, sometimes amusing, always confusing, me and the rickster. I would warn the spouse and kids, maybe send them off I was you. Not that it would be unsafe, no not that, but.....you know. Maybe if it was just one of us..........
Then across the continent, dipping south and back north, Canada, Colorado and Missouri, heading east with more borders except I speak Canadian so we'll be cool and I also know a little Michigan and I'm picking up Philadelphia. Finish in the Deep South where it's dripping hot which is just how I like it. I do, I love my hot dripping.
Does it matter if you can't tell the lies from the truth if the story is good? The truth is so much more dramatic though isn't it? Hence this blogging thing, freakin' truth coats we all wear. Plus, the music is true and Rick's face would give a lie away and mine would burst into a grin and you'd know.
We gotta name this tour man, do T shirts and hats. Leave em as souvineers. Slicked, Ricked, and Edged.
You have more energy now this post worked.
Who were those guys mom?
I may be feeding off of all of you, you know like one of those eel looking things that attaches to a fish and just hangs there. Except I'm going to send the nourishment your way because I don't think you need to have anything else sucked from you given the raw emotion I've been seeing from several of you lately. It's OK, I have extra. I have so much it pops my eyes open about 4 AM every morning. I do a reality check. Am I awake? Fuck yup, wide.
Some of your posts pissed me off, I think I told you if yours did. Some made me sad, I might have mentioned that too. Some were quite arousing. I generally don't keep my arousal a secret either. There was some reach out stuff and I'm always a sucker for that.
Maybe it would be better, rather than latching onto you, if I just do a laying on of hands or hook our minds up with mind jumper cables and give good things to you. Some of you I can read without the hookup, don't ask me how, just believe that I can. It's not something I need to lie about so just trust it and go with it. I would never hurt you.
Or maybe it's time for Rick and I to head out at midnight, has to be midnight, on our road trip to come infuse you one at a time. Or we could do group infusions cause he's a wired boy too and we could power a small town just by parking on main street. It's hot, damn it was hot yesterday, but we wouldn't use the air conditioner, just all windows down and blues and bullshit blasting. The kind of smoking boy blaring wheel turning that makes you lift your top when we pass without us even asking just because we make you want to and you know it's the right thing to do. Through Texas and up through Oklahoma and he knows the way I don't so onto California at some point, and there are lots of borders there I know so we would do border towns. I can't speak Spanish but I like Hispanic girls a lot so that will probably make up for it. Rick can tell em what I mean but I think they'll get it anyway. Northern California too of course and to Canada through Washington, infusing, and bemusing, sometimes amusing, always confusing, me and the rickster. I would warn the spouse and kids, maybe send them off I was you. Not that it would be unsafe, no not that, but.....you know. Maybe if it was just one of us..........
Then across the continent, dipping south and back north, Canada, Colorado and Missouri, heading east with more borders except I speak Canadian so we'll be cool and I also know a little Michigan and I'm picking up Philadelphia. Finish in the Deep South where it's dripping hot which is just how I like it. I do, I love my hot dripping.
Does it matter if you can't tell the lies from the truth if the story is good? The truth is so much more dramatic though isn't it? Hence this blogging thing, freakin' truth coats we all wear. Plus, the music is true and Rick's face would give a lie away and mine would burst into a grin and you'd know.
We gotta name this tour man, do T shirts and hats. Leave em as souvineers. Slicked, Ricked, and Edged.
You have more energy now this post worked.
Who were those guys mom?
posted by Edge | 9:06 AM
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