helmetman
Mary Hockenbery (reddirtrose)
“Hey baby, hey baby, how you doin’? You lookin’ good, baby, you lookin’ fine. You come here often? Me, naw…just clawed my way out of the grave for the night. But you…baby, it musta hurt when you fell out of Heaven. What? No, no…I am happy to see you, but that’s just rigor mortis. I ain’t that sorta guy. No, really. I mean, you got a great body, but I like you for your braaaiiins. If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’. Hey baby, hey baby, don’t go. I like the blood spatter on your shirt…you do that yourself? Hey, where you goin’ baby, where you goin’? You ain’t leavin’, are ya? We just met. You can’t be leavin’ so soon. Yeah yeah, go on then. ‘Cause I don’t care, I don’t care. I like my women the way I like my tequila. Cold, stiff, and wormy.”
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