The Obscure

For my entire life I've felt like I am flying down the highway with the sunshine in my pocket, and you wonder why I can't get a grip on Your reality.

HA! Johnny is back in town, ladies and gentlemen, and he is feelin' frisky. Mothers, lock up your daughters, or you'll find them dead on your doorstep come sunrise.

Theoretically speaking, spending your afternoon ingesting massive quantities of black india ink shouting about the "oppressive nature of the system" at the top of your lungs while sitting on a pile of golden golf shoes is an improper pass-time for a Lady.
Theoretically.
Thinking practically, of course, it's unavoidable. This idea is comparitive to how, say, a young woman is not supposed to burp. Without such release that woman's stomach would soon rupture, destroying her inner organs in a flood of stomach acid and partially digested confectionaries.
Therefore, the idea of a lady (solely because she is a Lady) avoiding the ink-devouring, gilded golf shoe toting, and aggressively philosophical expenditure of time (that is also currently all the rage in Europe) is ludicrous, and must be discounted.

Uh... I'll edit this post more later. I'm feelin' kinda wacky today.

*Edit*
I have no motivation to edit this blog further. I am going to take a break from it for a few days. We all gotta chill out for a while every now and again, dig?