An old comrade in arms, now resting in the great garage in the sky
Thankyou for your service old buddy, and if I see the ghost of a dark blue fiesta gunning it along the back roads to Ware…
Well; give me a beep and I’ll offer you a well deserved salute!
Little Beauty, War Hound; Rest In Peace
“What hath become of men’s minds when the restricting vines of this mortal coil doth strangle logic
Sanity a saint’s reserve as all into this world born a demon’s fire does turn flame to happiness
In all the world a man’s mind doth descend to where it all becomes a mirror of insanity”
Picture 1: The thoughtful explorer pose
Picture 2: Deep contemplation by the river
Picture 3: Looking out over the waters
I would like to thank the Lego man, mother nature and my camera
My insanity did play a part, but has caused too many issues to ever get praise!
I sight a storm, a torrid tempest of all that natural harm can spin
I walk into it, gun upon my head and fresh bottle full
Trigger pulled, bottle adds to the empties I have piled a mountain high
But alas the joke has been heard, no end does meet this mortals attempt of worth
The bullet faulted, the torrid tearing of the wind did merely ruffle hair
The bottle only cause for a hangover sent from hell
I hath survived and now do ready myself for the next trial I must endure
And this piece even fails to rhyme!
So Fuckith life for the factual fact that within the parody of a yearly passing this so solemnly constructed curse upon all that freely smiles is stillith existing within the basic terms of life and for doth the blade will claim before the next yearly passing dons a merry frock and celebrationary style posts this image again
Happy Birthday my Shadow, the form hath faded to hollow nature but this apparition will imprint it’s words to those who listen and send corrupted smiles to all who so care