When I die, I want to decompose in a barrel of porter and have it served in all the pubs in Dublin.
Pages
"home"
Monday, July 16, 2012
thunder storms.
let it rain—
the sound of the
storm
getting louder every
minute.
dark weather for
your [kind] words.
i’ll go a long way
for a good
ironic joke.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment