26 Letters, Weirdness forever

There is no learning lesson so dear as the 'almost died', and even those we shadow and forget like a long lost spanking; then get on cruising for a (next!) bruising. Would you spit in my face? Or ask it of me? What do you make of the sweet sorrow that makes us want to hurt? Some are children of the silent curse, but some never knew it, what of them? I think we're just wild animals, with big heads and bigger britches; saddled by an overlarge capacity for 'stories', love for long green, toys and a sold out constitution. I said love three times now, but I only respect penguins on chicks in Antartica; we just fuck a lot.

Forgive my trespasses, and I'll try to forgive you in the next life after I've been shot in this one.