You done Fucked up, Stove!
July 31, 2006
Let me tell you something, Stove!
You may have charred my hand and sent me cursing and shrieking across the room. And I may have curled into a ball, weeping and kicking at you like a women… but that was a hollow victory at best. True you tasted my flesh, but is was a small taste, and that weeping: tears of rage. The kicking like a girl I have little excuse for; save I was in a awkward position, and my tears of rage were kind of obstructing my vision.
So enjoy your day, sly and gloating, carrying on with that whore of a four slice toaster …now that you’re a hero in all their eyes. But know that a reckoning is coming. You don’t know me, Stove. You don’t know the things I’m capable off. See that’s the problem with appliances: you don’t think things through. You got no imagination behind that lacquered ceramic facade. You might think you burned me, but you burned yourself, burned all your hopes and dreams… to the ground, chief.
Since this is a semi public venue I’m not going to say anymore, but watch yourself, son.
Just watch. Your. Self.