Be my henchmen.

I find myself glaring at the cars that come down my street. I get mad when people drive by here while I'm out on my porch. I glare at them like they're invading my personal space and time on my porch. I don't know what my problem is. I do this pretty much every time though. Not just today. I think I just get irritated when my peace is interrupted.

Shrug.

I feel talkative and I feel I have things to write about today but when I come right down to it, I don't have much. Or at least, can't get it out?

Whatever. I'm annoyed.

We want to write. We want to talk. We want to spread our ideals as easy as we spread our lips, our legs, autumn leaves...

We want you to know! We want to shout our allegiance as we place our right hand over our cocks. We just need you to see us.We want a fanbase. We want listeners. Test subjects. Armed henchmen. We whole-heartedly hope to reveal all the hidden truths about the human experience. And being advocates of ourselves, we obsess over how our shit comes out.

Flies are swarming. It's driving me insane.

Stupid flies.

Anyway, be my test subjects.

Be my henchmen.