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Home of the Dead 4 (Black Metal)

By 1922-1993 at 2008-01-06 | Serious, Romance | Printable version

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    Here's the thing about being in an orgy; you can't be unsure when it comes to swapping bodily fluids.  That kind of hesitation can cost you your life, and/or the life of your best friend, 1922-1993 (a.k.a. Patrick).  Furthermore, Patrick and I went out to dinner, and I mean we ordered the steaks...medium rare, like well done...Pittsburgh.  So I'm trying to dine, and the fucking waitress dumps a pint of lager right in the toilet.  Like I said, we were in the ladies' room eating red meat and watching women poop.   It was there I met my first wife, Linda.  I killed her in a divorce three minutes after the marriage, which, incidentally, went something like this:

    "...do you Linda, take this man, a.k.a. the Narrator, to be your westminster faggot, in an ice cold burial chamber, for hundreds of years, amen, till the sands of time erode your tender, hopeless flesh?"

    Patrick was always an impressive orator when it came to ceremonial butcher.  I skipped the rest of the circumstantial crab-shit and plunged my knife into Linda's dumb skull.  She confessed her love, metaphorically, with a river of blood flowing freely from the eyes, like in nature.  It was truly a beautiful gesture, and I returned the sentiment ten-fold, with an iron spear to the heart...wham!  1922-1993 brought the festivities to a close with a gut-wrenching, fifteen minute piss down Linda's wifely throat...a virtuoso indeed.  I will miss her forever.   

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