EYES CLOSED DRUNK.

THE SKY HAS FALLEN ON TOP OF MY FACE AND I AM COVERED BY GRAY CLOUDS OPENING UP TO A SEA OF GACK FROM NICKOLEDEAN WITH JOHN SUMMERS.
HE IS LAUGHING AND THROWING UP INTO A BARREELL AND WEIGHING IT ON TOP OF A LARGE FAT WOMAN FROM KANSAS.
I CAN IMAGINE HER DANGLING A HOTDOG IN FRONT OF HER PREGNANT STOMACH AND SNORTING A RAIL OF CLEAN CUT COCAIN UNDERNEATH A DIM LITE ROOM WITH A FOREST WALLPAPER.
THERES A CARNIAVAL INSIDE OF MY BRAIN AND WHEN YOU SLICE IT UP BAMBII STORMS OUT OF IT LIMPING AND SMOKIING A CIGAR PROCLAIMING THAT JESUS HAD RODE HIS BACK THROUGH FLAMES FUELED BY RAT POISIN.
THERE IS A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET CFROM MY HOUSE.
THERE IS A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY HOUSE.
THERE IS A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY HOUSE.
I WANT TO BURN IT DOWN AND PUT IN A WATER PARK.
I WANT TO STOP TIME AND STAND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN.