Bruh what the ****

Today I ****** In The Sink.  

couldn't hold it to aim toward the toilet,
I drank too much soda and I had to go *** bad
there my engine was cast went right for the sink
can't even wink to dismiss this earthly bliss with a time well spent in thought

In my experience, men who *** (or tip their *** bottles) down the sink, don't tip it straight down the plughole - they tip it down the sides of the sink first.  They also decide to economise on water to the extent that they make no attempt whatsoever to rinse the *** off.  This means that before long, like a few minutes as the water evaporates and the urea becomes concentrated,  - YOUR SINK WILL STINK!!!  And, as the sink always seems to be the one you want to brush your teeth in, this means that your first task in the morning is to scrub out the sink else half way through brushing your teeth you will suddenly feel rather ill and probably throw up down said sink, which will then need an even more thorough clean.  But the sponge you scrub the sink out with will then need to be hidden from the rest of the family who will otherwise attempt to wash either themselves or the tea-cups with it.  Our sink is a pretty basic one with a straight tube draining the waste water away, but if you have one with a u-tube thingie fitted, it will always retain some *** no matter how much water you use in a futile attempt to rinse it out, and every time you approach the sink your stomach will clench in fear of the stench that will rise from the plug hole as you reach for your toothbrush.

MK ULTRA IS REAL AND IS BEING USED ON ME

I'm too ****** up to go back
My brothers gotta come and save me
They gotta drive my car for me

I'm strobing in and out of consciousness
But it's still not as bad as getting knocked out in a fight
The nausea's not even as bad as the first time I stole whiskey
And vomited black chunks

I'm going to do this again
And things much worse afterwards

I'm hanging out the window
Slumped and rag-dolled
On my way to rent a tuxedo

I'm starting to figure out
What the chasms between me and you are made out of
Where the differences of deep values lie

I know why I can sleep right next to you and still be an infinity away
And no amount of drugs, drinks or ***** will ever rid me of it

I'm here
To entertain
To play ukelele while
****** addicts in Prague score plump ***** poppies
Under a lazy summer sun
And their flirtations with death and their pursuit of high doses of deep oblivion
Are reduced to a journalist's article submission and the breathing, sweating, bleeding men and women are now
Still lights and colors in an image we can cast blank stares at
I play guitar
And the sound of riots that burned and looted chunks of Baltimore is now poignant accompaniement
For my dainty melodies
The hurling of insults, bottles and teargas
Are just the blazes of Rome for my fiddle
I'm here
As your fellow Rwandan and neighbor
to **** your daughter when our party has declared war upon yours
To chase you and your surviving family with machetes through the thick marshes that surround our farms
And then later mold that nightmarish scenery into a short video in which I
Beg you and the world for the sweet relief of forgiveness
In the background
I'll play a grand piano
I'm calling you
To perform my executive duty and express my heartfelt condolences for the death of your young husband
Whose name I've already forgotten and need to ask you for
Your reaction will be televised between toilet paper advertisements and blatant social conditioning

The pretty melody will continue throughout the daily openings of
Hands
arms
legs
eyes
mouths
cans
boxes
doors
gates
hearts
minds
And I'm not bitter or mad and I dont want you to be either
You think I'll leave you because a client got you pregnant but I wont
I'm here to take care of you in your 60usd hotel room when youre too sick to work
I'm still holding you tight after your close friend overdosed in the bathroom and died
I'm keeping my composure when the interviewer casually asks me if I hate everyone who doesn't look like me
I'm cheating all of my factory workers out of ever getting paid well
And then I'm sending them overseas to steal the jobs of college grads we hired
I'm being born while hundreds of people drown on the MS Estonia
And I'm dying from choking on a salty tortilla chip

Yet Still
The notes will calmly drift
Amidst the gunfire between rebels and regime in the rubble-laden deserts of Syria
Amidst the firm commands from Green Beret cadre to candidate in the lush woods of Camp Mackall
Through the inconviently fatal exit wounds in my teenaged chest
and the large caliber bullet holes in cheap beer cans I'm shooting for practice
I'm not telling you this so you can squeeze our experiences into a mondo film that ego-tripping critics will loathe
I just want you to not fixate so harshly on the particulars of how the codes you crack end someone's life on the other side of the world
And realize for a moment how many of your relationships are just thinly veiled plays made between you and your rut-enabling neuro transmitter dealer
I just want you to walk across this beautiful, extraordinary earth where giant beasts stomped and loving parents were murdered
Walk right over to where I am
And strum these strings
Entertain
While this world lives and breathes and pukes and cries and sings