Ok, T-freques, I'm keeping this short because some of you tend to dull out and not post when I write my glorified manifestos. So the Monkeyboy turns 21 in less than a month. Whoo ha. Nothing should change too drastically other than my being able to get into bars where I can pay $6 a beer. Fuck bars. And yet I know I'll wind up in a couple. I've been kinda pissed lately due to complete lack of action. Being optomistic, I've used this to fuel workouts and just tend to grunt a lot more. So if any T-vixens in the NYC area are into guys with primate tattoos and a penchat for writing poetry about iron don't hesistate to contact me...I'll just be up in this tree crying my little monkey eyes out. But fuck that. Yes, fuckit I say, thusly. I cna deal, I can cope. Fuck, no...wait yeah, okay, no, I'm good...almost. God I can't wait to beat myself up later. I'm leaving.
"MB: kicking ass...his own. Since 1980."