I need food, I need more lesbians (send resumes here), and I really think it’d be awesome to leave a flaming bag of dog shit on Jay Stile’s front porch, and videotape what happens.

Ever get lonely?
Don’t you ever feel phony?
Ain’t the train going slowly?
They say it’s gonna get snowy
Don’t you ever feel holy?
And think you wanna be a yogi?
What a load of baloney!
Do you wanna come home with me?
Don’t you ever get lonely?
Don’t you ever get…
-Matt Johnson

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 14th, 2001 at 1:55 am and is filed under My Big, Black Cock.. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.