Just A Little Bit Mad  

How am I doing, so far Pa? It's like removing the bumper of your 1947 DeSoto. Give me the Smelling Salts. But watch out for the sling blade. I took it off the John Deere.  
   
Skinny dipping in an oyster shell of my insanity. "But don't touch my heinie." Swinging my cod in close quarters, as I challenged the connivers of my mind. They are rascals but mine. "Sling Blade, 101." Whacking off the ball sack to become the Devil's castrato.    
   
I prefer comments. There should be comments. Of fuck! I screwed up. Maybe, next year.  
   
 It was the summer solstice that shadows my alter ego reflecting off my family jewels. "Jenny, Jeeny, skinning your hide, with two hands in your bush as the twilight slides to escrow. Touched by the steroids of my hunger playing pickup sticks with the bones. Taking the whole Indian nation and the buffalo. Watching Netflix with Grandpa and Granny snapping the beans