It was  at the crack of the afternoon always  when like some old circus bear i staggred to life.
Coffee surged through my veins with a touch of turkey to embrace the day to day troubles
with a sense of reason in the insanity.

The whispers were heavy like gunshot's that filled a early morning duck hunt.
Where half drunk men shared bottles and stories of conquest's some false others just straight *******.
He's losing it ya know?

They had read my scrbblings and saw the flaws yet dared never to speak the words to
the devil in the flesh.
But much like a villan or a dam good ****** with a std i was just waitting to
run yet again.

The Gonzo of old died hard and a writer of insanity
seldom was at a loss for words or  far from a intersection of trouble.
The road called.
And I her slave seldom ignored her for any woman worth her salt
was a cruel ***** at heart and thats what made them  so dam aluering.


I was the president of debauchrey the chairman of the boy's club
a locker room jester who seldom showed his flaws.
But time scars us all and I was no diffrent.

I had slowed yet went past that edge like a child who tears into a gift seldom
looking at the paper let alone who its from.
Still that gleam in the eye did exist and the danger was all but to real.

I was ready to claim it back although none could take it from me.
The bike was older yet still had a howl like a devils hound on a sunsets promise.
the drugs the ***** the women all where but part of the drive and freedom
of a perk.

Much like the whiskey that burns in my veins id never
water down my word's
Cold wether was pointing me south  the Key's were calling
in a tragic Hemmingway sense the old man's sea was but a bitter pill
and a islands stream of erased thought.

On a road that never grew old as I.
  Soon i was off.
And God only knows what would lead to this tour of destruction.
But all i can say is gentlemen start your engines.

For the chaos has just begun.

                                               Welcome  To The Boy's Club
                                                             Part One

He opened the door as so many times befor the old man not giving thought to a stranger

inside in wait.

His smell gave him away even in the darkness it's always that moment just befor that

excite's me so.



As his feeble hands flicked the switch he gave no thought  to a intruder

he only cursed the light.

Godammit!  I just bought that bulb!

His voice like a memory lingred within my thoughts of hatred.



The mouse was in the vypers cage and I thrived in knowing the strike would

be savage in nature.

He stumbbled his way to the kitchen and as he was met by only the promise of more darkness it was then he would hear my hiss.



Hello Jim it's been so very long.

His eye's were so perfect in there grasp of terror for he knew the devil well.

Who's there? Get the hell outta my house I'll call the cops!



I couldnt hide my laughter Oh Jim how can you call the cops

When the phones dead besides didnt you miss me?

I dont know what your talking about who the hell are you?



The fear was a drug I knew his heart couldnt take much more but much like the phone he fumbled for it wasnt the only thing that would be left dead in this house.



He staggred back blind was the mose that soon would know my fangs.

My arms around wrapped around the weak old fool he let out a cry but I muffled it

with leather glove.



Oh dear uncle Jim dont you remember me?

You said I was always your favorite you sick ******* *******!

How many were there ?

What's wrong are you scared good you ******* freak!



I felt his body tremble  just as helpless as he had made me feel

You know old man it's only fitting I should **** you for so long ago you killed me.

His withred lips began to speak my name but soon he felt the sting and the

blood choked the sentance from his mouth.



His throat slit I let the old man crawl painting his kitchen floor a crimsom of pure devilish delight.

I dropped the phone in front of him and enjoyed as he in a last effort to survive

dialed the numders the gurgling noise a sweet music to my ears.



What's wrong Uncle Jim you seem so unhappy?

He convulsed in the floor I watched my creator die in such a beutiful demise.

The sound so sweet to hear my memories were washed clean my past was dead with the

wrinkled old garbage in floor I drove the blade in agian thats for the past you

I drove it in again thats for that helpless disgusting feeling of filth.



I drove it deeper agian and agian blood painted me i was washed clean of his decay.



How i love family get togathers