|
Tito_the_Furious
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Ryan
Country: United States
State: Illinois
Metro: Naperville
Birthday: 7/25/1985
Gender: Male
Interests: Cheese, Wine, Beer, Cigars, History, Makin' sweet sweet love, Computers, Art, Gardening, Heavy Metal, Cooking, Traveling, Chit-chatting, Root Beer, other stuff.
Expertise: Heavy Metal Scholar - Your guarenteed source of all information on the metal world. '
Also, MiG welding
Occupation: Welder
Industry: Manufacturing
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  PsychoSorceror
Yahoo:  Madsorceror
Member Since:
5/20/2005
|
|
| Yeah, ow.
 | | |
| http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IkOC5vYDl8
If you love Iron Maiden, you'll love ANGEL WITCH
1980 NWOBHM trad metal goodness.
Sorry for the lack of updates. That should tell you just how exciting I really am.
In other exciting news, I saw Destroyer 666 with Sauron and Cianide monday. It was a blackened thrashtacular evening that left my neck sore for days.
 '
In other news, I replaced my awol inverted cross necklace. And despite me looking like a fag in this photo, I feel cool to the umpteenth degree.
I love cheesecake.
| | |
| So I need some takers on the Maiden concert Wednesday October 18th at the Allstate Arena at 6:30.
I plan on going whether or not you fuckers do, but dammit, you should go. Yes, you.
Tickets are $50 and worth every penny.
Apologies for the last entry. Things haven't been so peachy lately. C'est la vie.
"Well, God bless your crooked little heart st. louis got the best of me
I miss your broken-china voice
How I wish you were still here with me
Well, you build it up, you wreck it down
You burn your mansion to the ground
When theres nothing left to keep you here, when
Youre falling behind in this
Big blue world
Oh you go to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, Im standing right here
You got to hold on"
(Tom Waits)
| | |
| There was a sort of awful beauty about it. Smooth, clean, benign as could be. I slid it into the chamber and looked at it there, suspended on the receiver spring. I slammed the bolt in hard, and locked it with a sound that had an eerie finality about it.
I pulled the wood close, and drew my hand along it's side. I draped my finger over the trigger, and played with the action, pulling it as tight as I could without letting it go all too far.
And then I put it down, cracked open the bolt, and pulled it out. And passed out.
| | |
|
