So... I invited my mom to read my blog so I could make her laugh and cheer her up. She was horrified at how filthy my writing was. I've been chastised, so I'll try to clean it up from here on in. I feel like I'm eleven again, when I wasn't even allowed to say "God." Little did she know that was the same era that I was smoking the reeds from the lake with my older brother.
artist David de Lara's Crooked Halo