Saturday's ride was so fun I did the S.C.A.B. 100 again today... The double century weekend gave me my biggest week of the year... Yay!!
posted by Robert at 6/22/2008 08:20:00 PM
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Saturday's ride was so fun I did the S.C.A.B. 100 again today... The double century weekend gave me my biggest week of the year... Yay!!
2 Comments:
I repeat. You are a sick, sick man.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008 9:17:00 PM
N I C E ! ! ! ! One of my all time faves.....
Artist: Foetus
Song: Sickman
Lurchin' round the parking lot, a man possessed (of not a lot)
Skin and bones and rings and crown, legs reach right down to the ground
Swivel hips and loose lips. Stab the dagger, turn it round
His life's an open book scribbled in his own blood
His constant companion always at hand
Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of SICK-MAN
Overcome by waves of lechery - one for you sixteen for me
Kill the monkey on his back/he kisses BIG, he kisses BLACK
Profile of neanderthal/leaves his debris in the hall
Pushover furniture-barroom brawls... takin' notes from toilet walls
His victim screams - he has a ball
THE BIGGER THE HEAD THE HARDER THEY FALL
He lives a life of luxury, he lives a life of misery
The entries in his diary are the entries of SICK-MAN
His constant companion always at hand
Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of SICK-MAN
His pen's as mighty as his sword. Bites off more than he can afford
The torture-meister relishing - intimidating everything
Typewriter rhythms drowning the newly acquired insecurity
Gets in fights/stays up nights/rends and mends companion's tights
Forcin' symptoms of his own disease
A BOY FOR YOU, BLACK PLAGUE FOR ME
His constant companion always at hand
Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of SICK-MAN
His constant companion always at hand
Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of SICK-MAN
Blackheaded Blackguard with a blackjack
Laced his coffee with spoons of RATSAC
Hangs his trophies on walls of his place - hangs his carrots in front
of his face
Lust and greed has swallowed him - tearing limb from hymn to limb
He's worries how - he got a gun swallowed in his clammy hams
All he got for Christmas was a chip on his shoulder
And a constant reminder
Left companion in pool of blood - she had tried to make him taste his
own medicine
Gone down dead end alleyway
HEY SICK-MAN
SUCK THIS, SICK-MAN, EAT HOT LEAD... HE'S GRINDING - SHAKING - DANCING
DEAD
Illegal entries in his diary... diary of SICK-MAN
His constant companion was always at hand... now she's an entry in the diary
the diary of SICK-MAN
His constant companion always at hand... makin' entries in his diary
The diary of SICK-MAN
Illegal entries in his diary... DIARY OF SICK-MAN
SICK-MAN... SICK-MAN... SIIIIIIIIIICK ---- MMAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008 9:21:00 PM
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