a fragment pissing Dixie in the whistling wind

Blocked or locked away all associations made tame, slavish, depraved . I need new names for blaming, new ways to embrace my shame.

Published in: on March 14, 2011 at 11:31 am  Leave a Comment  

How I’m doing.

As my most recent bout with sobriety approaches the six-month mark, I find that while I crave beer far somewhat less than I did early on, I am afraid that if a wild turkey were to land near me, I would fuck it to death and eat it on the spot.

Published in: on March 9, 2011 at 4:32 pm  Leave a Comment  
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