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Michael Hollemon
There's nothing about me to tell.
There's nothing about me to tell.

Michael's posts

I just showered in the rain.

I'd take a bullet for you, not in the face or anything, but maybe in the leg. 

This is why you're alone, idiot. 

"So whatever happened to the young man's heart? It's swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart. And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45."

I'd honestly trade most of you, for a pet dragon. Like a real, full-size, flying dragon. With fire breath and everything.

I'm done pussyfooting around with some of you  bitches. You piss me off, that's it. 

I'm so tired of your existence. Thus far you've only been a fairweather friend and a pain in my ass, disappear. The less I see of you the better, and keep my fucking business out of your mouth.

Bad day only gets worse, mayonnaise in the ear still.

Truly, no one gives even a fraction of a shit. Just stop doing it, you're not getting the attention you want.

She was right, you barely understand algebra.
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