Atticus: The woman that you love is out there and you know you can't have her. How do you even get up in the morning? Hank: Well the booze is always helpful and so is the art. Everything that I write is either for her or about her. So I'm with her, even when I'm not.
I feel like the good lord himself picked me up with his bare hands, laid me down on a bed of rusty nails, pinned my ankles behind my ears and just stuck it in. No Vaseline no lube no nothin. Not even a little spittle. That mother fu-ker just took his Darth Vader helmet, that big Darth Vader helmet and just rammed it home. He wrecked my pretty little virgin a--hole, my sweet little brown bud. Pulled out, came on my t-ts, wiped his di-k on the curtains and left me for dead. That's just me. How bout you guys?