I'm so used to being controversial. Not like Dennis Rodman, "I'm gonna wear some earrings and a dress." Not like Rush Limbaugh being a cock on the radio. No, I'm the real fuckin' deal. I really am the person your mother warned you about.
I'm not some weirdo, either. Some neighborhood van perv or porn cinema raincoater or subway fondler or window peeper or upskirt stairs or toilet cammer or trench coat flasher with cut-off pantlegs rubberbanded to my calves. And I'm no sociopathic serial killer. No, I'm worse than any of that.
Those guys are just ghouls. They can't help it.
I could but won't. Can't.
I'm brilliant, I mean truly I'm an out-there genius, but I'm not a sicko like that. I just love women. Too much. Always have. Pleasure center's wired wrong. Rat's pushing the cocaine lever day and night, just watching himself over and over and over, wishing he would straighten up out of his rat crouch and go to the cage door. It's open.
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1 comment:
getting out of the cage is the hardest part.
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