Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Eventually the face of the hulking Connecticut pot head will be smashed, flat to a gritty concrete wall on a sunny day. The skin may sizzle and bubble at the very moment of impact. That ugly face, a big ball, swollen and ashy from beer, bursting with greasy blond hair, sadly comes to my brain tonight. Oh, that pathetic, stupid fucking face. Delivering excited slurs, a boorish smiling expression and empty, beady, black eyes. Drunk on power, this face, surely, tottering back and forth, lips jabbering idiot signals. Or just drunk.
Are people listening to him, I think now? Do they hear what he says? Does it resonate? Does it really make sense? Tell me, is that stupid, drunk face making sense?