The Princebles Office better known  as the Dragg queens lair.

This time it's it!
You demented twisted drunken *******.
from the veins that shown so easily from Sir Eltons  neck i could
tell it must be a bad hair day.
That and  he was trying to butter me up with all the compliments

****** harassment,Encouraged drug use,Public displays of insanity,
******* indecent act's with a animal oh wait that's the artist formely known as jack horner.

As this sad little dwarf from a strange planet called London ranted and rubbed the fact in my face that yet there was one rule i hadnt broken
****** man whats a girl gotta do to get some attention?

It's it ive gotta list of angry sensitive people who are friends with benfits  who  want you gone!
How could this be?
Had the world gone insane or caught some std that slowley eats away  
your brain slowley making you think that Justin Bieber had talent?

Dear lord it was reffer madness all over again.
Well Frodo theres only one solution I exclaimed.
His face red eyes mentally ******* me jesus man must have been
missing happy hour at the shire.

Well pippy  they'll all just have to go  im mean what would
funhouse be without a ***** old pervert  to feel up the costumers?
Dam you  Francis Ford Copela
What the hells wrong with you?

The question hung in the air like a **** in church
So many things made one Gonzo.
Not enough hugs  to little wild turkey.
And not using protection.
Remember kids always fasten your saftey belts get your heads outta the gutter.

The list read like a who's who of people who really needed
to get a life  or laid maybe even by there wife.
After hours okay maybe the rest of my bottle of wild turkey
it was decided  once again  i was the black sheep and no one
wanted to play anymore oh well i'll just do what the staff of the drag queens lair does and play with myself.

But enough with the foreplay children.
so many things i had learned  like  well ummm?
Okay maybe nothing at all  i knew i should have tuffed it out and
got through   kinder garden.

As I cleaned out my desk I reflected apon old times.
The laughter  the time i set fire to grandma's cat  and blamed it on my
little brother eventhough i didnt  have one.
Wait wrong memory.
  
The road ahead uncertin my mind unclear.
My inner child hurting in need of a really hot comfort cuddle maybe
from someone with a inner ****.

As I began my long walk of shame much like a woman who relized
she made a big mistake with her boss lastnight.
It's hell working in the family  business.

I passed old faces  all  pretty much thinking i was full of it as usal
turned and in my grown up ****** with a heart of gold voice said.

No one puts baby in a corner!
Sometimes you gotta  stand up for things  or do like me and blame it on others   and I cant belive  not even a single  free bottle of ***** or a concert  or maybe a lap dance  yeah  it's really went down hill
girlfriend oh snap.

Guess i'll just go  dont try to stop me.
Hmm tuff crowd   well  stay crazy amigos.
And as i closed the door i could feel the sadness.
There was a great racket coming from inside.

I knew it the heartbreak was so terrible these people were destroyed.
Why even as i opened   the door and saw them swingin from the hey what the ****?

All eye's turned  the music died.
Dear lord people  really?
Even my 50 pen names?

Im okay  well  the cake saying good riddance hurts a bit
But it taste great and the margarita's nice touch.
After such a outrage I was left with only one choice
steal as much **** as could  flip frodo the bird.
spike the punch   okay maybe  do a little dance make a  little
Gonzo once later  id demand  a blood test for and shut the hell up for good tonight.

The door slammed shut like my wifes legs after she relized her sisters baby  really had a strange fondness for wild turkey.
All sat around wondering will this long *** write ever end ?

Chris looked at the artist formely known as Jack Horner.
Speaking in that slow **** seductive  voice of his.
Ya think the crazy ******* is really gone.
To which my crazy amigo across the pond replyed.

**** no he does that every other week.
And besides  thats the door to the janitors closet.

He waited the sad ***** broken in what seemed like a fool who sits on the traintrack
Feeling the rail knowing full well what is coming cant be stopped yet still
they stand.

It didnt take a writers eye to read the reply I knew it from the moment the poor
sap got down on one knee.
Like was never ment for love as a torment was never ment to be cast in a ******* fairytales
happy ending.

I felt no need to listen further for like some old stage hand I knew the
actors lines by heart.
Why were sappy ******* always drawn to heartless ******* I could never understand.
I guess for the reason worthless ******* always seemed to get the one's that
were to dam nice used them like doormats and turned them into the flawed gems
we knew and adored as well.

Maybe if only his ears herd truth instead of dellusion he'd find a much easier path.
I never wait for a reply and seldom care to ask.
I deal in truth I play no game just show my cards and care less if im holding better than the next.
Games are for fool's and old farts who gather to swap war stories and yern for the days
when yesterday  was uncertin yet always a adventure.

She wouldnt reply with what he wanted and he would be the fool a clown
left behind by the circus  just a out of place reject  wearing oversized shoes.
Some belive in it some also know desperate acts only serve a vain person's ego.

It's better to be jaded in sight than a sap for a cruel ******* amusement.
But being a ******* I know her thoughts all to well.
And as the night does erase the light the curtains fall will just
promise another act apon life's stage.

Avoid the people who's hearts have been cast of stone.
Course if you choose to do so you'll probaly  not have to many friends.
Course I never did give a **** cause that just leaves more drinks for me.

He waited for her reply and as the words hit like a landslide.
He sat numb frozen in a sea  of embaressment.
And in the aftermath of rejection he sat at the bar  running it through his thoughts.
I poured a triple sat it in front of the man along with a bottle for company.

And as always became deaf to the bleeding hearts conversation.
Thank God for closing time.

Im the stage hand of lifes over written play a bartender who's herd every version of the
same old song.
If you have to wait never yern for the reply.


Stay crazy Gonzo

It's like a distant call of a well known ghost.
Change breath's heavy apon the wind.
She yerns to know the other end of rejection.

Two broke souls rich in the passion of a uncertin day.
No money can touch that excitment of  just what comes next.
Sweet mercey  we exist on a favor we cant repay.


A old radio and room no bigger than   postage stamp.
***** windows give the best moonlit visions indeed.
Five star dream's I'll take a greezy burger and cold beer
my  hand inbetween her thighs.

Her eye's speak the  direction we shall take.
A devilish grin a twisted snake of plessure
leading to a old bed's dusty retreat.

But millions can't taste this moment.
Inside her plessure I grasp a key turned towards
the locked vessel to which she does give.

My nights are rich in splendor.
And  a endless river  in thought.

A liar a ******* a friend and enemy all rolled into one.
A fool with a wreckless sense.
A dreamer who's life rest ready to be void at the end of a gun.

The losser who's past speaks of no future clear.
The uncertin madman who seldom is ever truely here.
The man's lust for the road.
A still frame dessire cast in a black and white play.

To many fights to little scars.
To many reasons.
To less bars.

The grey in a was young  head.
My time is past half  is already dead.
The bitter truths  and well ment lies.
The wolfs heart under a devils   disguise.

Stories unwritten and some yern never to be told.
A winters bite in a glimmer of passion.
My place  gone from the illusion  ive loved so well.


The mirror reflects all you'll never see.
The mirror lies to all.
But never hides it's fatal truth from me.