Questoin for ya

not for YOU, biker.

My man knows who I'm talking to.

Listen ... you waste your time with all these friggin hookers and boofs ... faking up all this bullshit. You let these people do this stuff to my house and car.

You and I both know. There are only two things in the world that you really NEED. One is more a WANT.

So.

W T F???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Never took you for a ..... backwards fella.

Incidentally, I've been struck by the thunderbolt and I'm sorry. It's NOT you.

It's for real this time. I'll wait til I'm 99 if I have to.

He.

I'll still be hot.

But meantime, I appreciate the things you have done. I mean, sorta.

Some things more than others, natch.

I'm sorry I come down on your childhood ummmmm asshole buddies.

The thing is ... you musta thought they were fucking douche bags, too.

Look at em.

Anyway ... this isn't doing my weave any good.

Other than that I'm doing fine.

But what if something goes wrong and I wind up dead?

The thing is that you will NEVER NEVER know until you feel it hit you. Sometimes it just seeps in.

I'm talkin to ya. Hope you're listening.

I don't think you're quite sane but I don't necessarily hold folks to that standard.

Your looks never had anything to do with it, for the record.

It's your obvious heart. Your inner heart is some better.

You're going to look back on these years and regret them.

I love you. I do.

I always have.

I want my Grandmother's clock back.

And I want to know why he is dead.

I want you to tell me right to my face. I want the motherfucking truth from you.

Then I want you to leave me alone. It's not right.

For you, I mean. I have at least a dozen other like you. It's okay. I understand. I learned to let go at an early age.

I know exactly what's what. If I don't know it there's a reason: I don't give a fuck.

Now, I love you. I do. Give me back my Grandmather's clock and that one of a kind picture of myself and them and stop pretending that you don't have it. There are other things but that is what I want.

Dear god, it's serial=killerish. IS that all my fucking shit in your garage?????

I swear to god sometimes I laugh and sometimes I want to sit down and write a fucking scary book about you.

I'll change the names to protect the fucking guilty.

Just mail it to me. Be done with it.

And tell me why you murdered him.

Becuase the rest of this trumped up bullshit is really stressing a lot of people.

You must admit that you could keep this up forever but it's really not getting you anywhere but bored.

You can burn my house down. YOu can do whatever you want.

I'll be standing right here telling you this: Give me back my Grandmother's clock. Give me BACK MY PICTURE. ALL OF THEM. Make copies you cheap-0.

And, tell me why you murdered him.

That's all.

You and me.

I'll be naked because you are PARANOIED.

All these years.

We had some good times.

You make me really sad.

I don't have a long list of demands.

But those are three things that are non-negotiable. These other assholes got nothing I want.

BUT --- I try in ways that are .... ummmm as illuminating as possible to let you people konw ... there are ways to do this and ways to do this.

Yall need some women in your company that are NOT CUNTS.

That's some advice to live by.

They look like sluts and they act like cunts. If they're not ugly and stupid they're mean and sleezy. With a few exceptions but they're nasty hos anyway.

Alright. YOu know it's been all this time I just found something.

But, at the same time I found a gift I bought my beloved sister and never got to give her because those GODDAMN FUCK HEADS of yours KILLED HER.

NOW give me back my shit and tell me what I want to know. And I get to ask the fucking questions.
I'll verify what you say so do NOT LIE TO ME AGAIN.

You know you can't stand it when I want something and you can't give it to me.

GIVE ME THIS.