Thick, heavy rain.
Every couple of minutes thunder is booming,
it's really nice outside.
I miss them.
People are running around outside trying
to find cover from the storm,
desperately trying to evade the
I'm locked up in this dump,
staring out the bars of my cell at the
downpour, wishing i could be out in the street,
and people out there are doing everything to
shelter themselves and escape the rain.
They'll probably go home an complain about it too..
Unbeknownst to them,
here sits a man a stones throw away,
holding his nuts, praying for the day he is lucky enough
to get caught in a summer shower..
This cell is fucking boiling.
Wearing only a pair of shorts and semi-retarded facial expression,
i'm actually trying NOT to look out the window.
What's the point?
There is no inspiration to be found.
No awesome sights to behold.
Only irritation in its purest form.
no enjoyment is to be found staring at
unreachable females, lets get that
established first and foremost.
I understand that the chick across the street
has a seriously dope rack, hourglass figure and
long sexy hair.
I comprehend that it's more than likely she's
flossing one hell of a cute coochie under that
slutty suit she's wearing..
..but what good is it to me in here?
Staring at shit like that doesn't make my
time any easier, if anything it just makes it harder.
Now we have that Firmly established,
what else is there worth eyeballing out
my porthole style view of this world?
I'm certainly not one to laugh at other human
beings inability to choose fresh garments.
Pointing out freshly flossing individuals is an
astronomically stupid waste of time.
It's akin to a double leg amputee flicking
through sneaker magazines.
Not a worthwhile practice.
So what can be gained from staring out of your prison window,
into a busy street filled with beautiful women, huge breasts
and amazing weather,
all in a city that you will never legally be able
to step foot in for the rest of your life without risking
being thrown in this very same facility for an ANOTHER
extended period of time?
Doesn't stop me from looking,
penis in hand, furiously masturbating for an answer..