Anxiety meds have been ground into paste and mixed with petrol, poured into a mold and mixed with jelly. Formed into a bust of Ron Perlman, placed on a catapult with a lit fuse and LAUNCHED onto the rotting corpse of bad memories.

Art is happening, porn is being heated in the fires, placed on an anvil and pummelled into shape with my hard dick. Life is good, and prices will be up soon for anyone that wants to throw coins at me, preferably digital ones cause they hurt less.



Cocks.