my probation officer decided to actually do his job and call me for the first time in 3 months today. said i have to go to an AA meeting if im going to get all my requirements for the drunk drivers course im taking. good thing the church the meetings in is two doors down from the gallaway pub. i can get a pint and a shot on my way there.
i told my dad that and he told me its fine as long as im not slurring my words at the meeting, and that our familys only drinking problem is the massachusetts police
Theres a county map to go on the wall, A hurling stick & a shinty ball, The bric, the brac, the craic & all, Lets call it an Irish pub, Caffreys, Harp, Kilkenny on tap, The Guinness pie & that cabbage crap, The ideal wannabee Paddy trap, We’ll call it an Irish pub plastic cups and polished floors, we’ll hose the blood right out the door and let the knucklers back for more we got us an irish pub
you could bury me with an enemy at mount Calvary. you can stack me on a pyre and soak me down with whiskey. roast me to a blackened crisp and throw me in a pile, i could really give a shit im goin out in style. you can take my urn to fenway, spread my ashes all about. you can bring me down to wolly beach and dump the sucker out. burn to a rotten crisp and toast me for a while, i could really give a shit im goin out in style.
against a machine like rage - bitches say ‘i hate you cage’. after circle jerks i wash my hands off and do dirt. sick wit a smirk, plus i be disturbed - fucked the first two bitches like dogs then i jacked off on the third. im obvious oblivion, but thats my science. fuck your head up like corn rows put in by blind giants. havent been with it since the last corpse kidded - wore a blood stained smile and told the cops ‘he did it!’