666. The number of that most vile and tempest beast. Lucifer! Satan! Beelzebub! Dubya! Many names for such a Carpathian Nightmare such as he, oh carrier of pitchfork and tainted souls-in-a-bag-by-his-side…..he’ll come for you all brothers, count on it, get on your knees and repent now to Rotten Denmark, for we know of your sins and dispel the waters that will cleanse you before that hour of reckoning, when Iranian missiles fall upon this flattened land of hoople-headed gluttons too mesmerized by there own navel to give a fuck about third world starvation.
Oh yes, He loves you the best of all….and your stream of conscious meditation on your love for Pringles, Marlboro Lights and Mountain Dew.
If tomorrow comes, and my love and I remain in this ghost town forever, I will know that you came and spared me into an existence into the most futile of all limbos to run naked and frolic amongst the greenery growing atop the hunks of metal, let their flame-broiled egos mongrelize the fertile Earth and let God show the way from there…..
Your sheep in gimp’s clothing,
D.A.
PS-If you give me a 4th season of Deadwood, I’ll know your aim is true.
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