basically, i have one feeling. the desire to get out of here. And any other feelings i have come from trying to analyze why I want to go away. I always feel uncomfortable and i just want to walk out of the room. It's not going to any other place or any other sensation, it's just the need to get out of "here".
your hand on me, pressing hard against my jeans. your tongues in my mouth trying to keep the words from coming out. you don't care at all about who else may have been here before.
1966: "we went to see the Who at the Cavern. It was wall to fucking wall of people. We muscled through to about ten feet from the stage, and Townsend started smashing his twelve string Rickenbacker. It was my first experience of total pandemonium. It was like a dog pile of people, just trying to grab a piece of Townsends guitar, and people went scrambling to dive on stage and he'd swing his guitar at thier heads. The audience weren't cheering: it was more like animal noises, howling. The whole room turned really primitive- like a pack of starving animals that hadn't eaten for a week and somebody throws out a piece of meat. I was affraid. For me it wasn't fun, but it was mesmerizing. It was like "the plane's burning, the ship's sinking, so let's crush each other". Never had i seen people driven so nuts- that music could drive people to such dangerous extremes. That's when i realized, This was definatley what i wanna do."
YOU GOT SERVED.no.seriously.you did.bitch.
Why don't they just call the History Channel what it is.. The Nazi Channel. I've learned more about SS Werewolves then anyone should know....
WINNING THROUGH INTIMIDATION. " i really meant to cut off your hand at the wrist, and before you reached for your chips you should have remembered my warning." (translation:type number one isn't sorry, because he warned you ahead of time how he plays the game)
Stephen Patrick.