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merry band of dickbags
The beauty behind music never ceases to send goosebumps down my flesh and shivers up my spine.
Music lives in the soul—hell, it lives in my DNA. Literally.
How can we go from wanting to rip each other's hair out to wanting to tear each other's clothes off?
Family doesn't have to be blood; family is the people who see you at your lowest and help to raise you, not lower you down.
Hurray for furthering my education and expanding my horizons so I can walk off into the sunset with a degree under my belt
Yeah. It’s ball-nicking time, Assface. Feel my fucking fury.
“Any true musician knows the music lives in their souls. It’s the fuel for life, man.
That’s right, River Blue—eyes on me, baby.
River West will either be our ruination or our fucking salvation—I haven’t decided which yet.
Will you be the first penis fly trap to grab hold of his trouser snake…” I slap my hand over his mouth, shaking my head.
Terrible things happen to everyone every single day. It's what you do with those dire situations that count.
“Lyrics come from the heart, Pretty Girl. Unexpectedly. Beautiful. Raw. Lyrics appear out of nowhere,”
Music always calms the storm brewing in my mind and eases my pain. Music erases everything on my plate and sets me free. It sounds silly. But music has always been my escape
And I melt. I fucking melt under his scrutiny, and that’s just bullshit. He gave me a simple demand, and here I am, lusting over one little tongue flick.
“Eh, what's a long, lost, forgotten family for? We couldn't help you when we were kids, but we sure as fuck can help you now. Pack your bags, little sister. We're going to California.”
