"I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often."
— Charles Bukowski (Tales of Ordinary Madness)
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
I hope Elvis is whooping Michael Jacksons ass in the afterlife as we speak.
No comments:
Post a Comment