by little camilla jean welsch
guess my number.
i guess i only know some standard french.
that’s called a little firearm.
that’s what i got. little fire arms.
especially when they’re shot with adrenaline. 🙂
you want me to pick that car up?
dude, why am i talking about guns?
i’m talking about my little arms.
if guns are arms, and arms are guns,
then, i don’t even know what’s what.
said the tiny harlequin: “you know what?” and smiled and put her arms up.
for a hug, that’s what.
then she said, “you wanna tear some shit up? …. dude, stop me now! wtf!? lol.” and picked her gun back up.
i don’t own one. but i do have a pen that actually can deliver some silver you know whats.
whats? silver bullets.
what’s up? 🙂
zu frueh am Sonntag. aber tres amusant quand il faut, non?
translation: “too early on Sunday…. but, highly entertaining when it comes down to it. no?”