Stick N Poke 08

My love rack. No magazines after Spring 07 allowed.
Cecil. The fifth wheel of H.E.A.L.T.H. and the third leg of our hearts.
The little tyke* got woken up and wondered out his bedroom to see what the commotion was. Stick and Poke, yeah!
I cringe. I cry. I moan. I scream. I yelp. I yell. I chuckle. I sweat. Little volcanoes were erupting on my skin. Like poking an open wound with a switchblade. And so many more things.
A Cecil feather. I'm damn proud of his work. I took it like a fucking infant, but I took it nonetheless.
Cecil getting work done. They want to reinvent rock paper scissors with tattooed weapons on each finger. I'm thinking about getting a two by four with a nail on my finger. That's a good weapon. Oh, a grenade. I'm getting a grenade on my finger!
El Paso Hot Button. Goddamn, this man could rock his shit out. A one man heart breaker, soul taker, and rock n roll maker.
The Chinese Stars. Too much rough housing, and sloppy dancing, and raisins grinding with white trash Heath Ledger Joker makeup floozies.
Anne Marie and Bob's Pumpkin Carving Party of 2008. My first pumpkin carving ever. This is hour two of my pumpkin. I hardly touched my beer and never made eye contact with anyone, save for my five minute breaks.
End result. Top pumpkin is Daniels. Mine is the Party Bat.
Afterward, we went to our friend, Justin's 22nd birthday party. We met some new friends and saw a lot of sloppy fresas. Girls don't seem to care if you walk in on them in the bathroom at a U.N. party. I felt left out without a flag, but I finally got the 50 states.
Saturday, we went to an East Side party where Blaine and Aaron spun. Funny thing about the East Side. Its not anything in conversation. But the drive back from, you begin to talk shit about the place. And it does suck.
*Not a real penis, its plastic. Don't report me!