Urn It
You'd think I'd get tired of it, this bunkhouse. I haven’t though. I love these guys. We work hard. We play hard. We do the leg work that keeps the ranch running and we do it well. We used to, anyway.
I died three years ago and have been bound to this urn since. The boys were really good about making sure it was a nice one. I'm pretty sure Daniel, my brother, had something to do with that.
A horse kicked me in the head. Can you believe that shit? I died instantly. Three years dead and incinerated, yet I can see and hear. Weird, right? Can't get off this shelf, though.
I've watched these guys all this time, especially Daniel. It hasn't all been nice. Recently, they've taken to the dope. The yayo, you know? We never did any of that shit when I was around. Some beer, maybe. A little bit of herb even. But we never brought in the coke. Cell phones make it pretty easy, though, even way out here. It was going to happen eventually. Daniel's hooked. I know it. He knows it. And nobody says anything about it. Morons.
It's all good, though. I love them. They're my family.
They're partying right now. It's a lively one. A good ol' country banger is shaking the walls. They’re playing cards.
Why is everybody yelling? Boys! Stop! Calm the fuck down! Don't point that at my brother, Mike! Who cares if he cheated?! Put the fucking gun down!
Mike just pulled the trigger! If I had my old ears, the rapport would deafen me.
Holy shit! They just shot Daniel! In the face! His brain's on the floor!
I'm feeling a lot of angry hate right now. Those stupid fucks! This is what cocaine does, you idiots! We were family! Why the fuck would you do this?! It's just a card game!
I'm fracturing. My sight and hearing are dividing. Family my ass. If I reach hard enough, I can get into each one of these fucks and make them pay. Each man in this room has a pistol. It's interesting to point a gun at your own head and pull the trigger nine times.
It's nothing compared to a horse kick, bastards.
I died three years ago and have been bound to this urn since. The boys were really good about making sure it was a nice one. I'm pretty sure Daniel, my brother, had something to do with that.
A horse kicked me in the head. Can you believe that shit? I died instantly. Three years dead and incinerated, yet I can see and hear. Weird, right? Can't get off this shelf, though.
I've watched these guys all this time, especially Daniel. It hasn't all been nice. Recently, they've taken to the dope. The yayo, you know? We never did any of that shit when I was around. Some beer, maybe. A little bit of herb even. But we never brought in the coke. Cell phones make it pretty easy, though, even way out here. It was going to happen eventually. Daniel's hooked. I know it. He knows it. And nobody says anything about it. Morons.
It's all good, though. I love them. They're my family.
They're partying right now. It's a lively one. A good ol' country banger is shaking the walls. They’re playing cards.
Why is everybody yelling? Boys! Stop! Calm the fuck down! Don't point that at my brother, Mike! Who cares if he cheated?! Put the fucking gun down!
Mike just pulled the trigger! If I had my old ears, the rapport would deafen me.
Holy shit! They just shot Daniel! In the face! His brain's on the floor!
I'm feeling a lot of angry hate right now. Those stupid fucks! This is what cocaine does, you idiots! We were family! Why the fuck would you do this?! It's just a card game!
I'm fracturing. My sight and hearing are dividing. Family my ass. If I reach hard enough, I can get into each one of these fucks and make them pay. Each man in this room has a pistol. It's interesting to point a gun at your own head and pull the trigger nine times.
It's nothing compared to a horse kick, bastards.
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