Top 100 reasons I never tell the truth:

A mans best friend is not a man. A mans best friend is a microphone.

Telling me that you care is just one of a million things.

She tells me stories that Mother Goose would kill for.

We speed down the highway, and I still can�t get a commitment.

Taking a vacation in a month. Don�t ask don�t tell.

She is the one I want to kiss. Even if it�s just once.

Will it stop being the latest issue of the newspaper?

My favorite night this year was in June.

I expected to forget what I went for, and then I found her photos.

The reasoning behind all of this is grounded in bad punk records.

She is short and has red hair. She has nice lips. She is younger. She is loud, but just waves at me.

She is blonde and wears it in a ponytail. She is older than me. She makes me a little humble.

I hate to think that I am not clear all the time 24 hours a day.

We smoke because we don�t talk to each other anymore.

She is short as well. Real smart. I can�t believe I was in awe of her at one point. �She�s one of us� we say.

There was a small pile of dirt left at my door, methodically placed there to get to me. I hear them out there.

She made me think back to six years ago and go over all sorts of letters and notes.

I have a series of things I need to always do. Never walk down stairs in front of anyone.

My guitar sits there now rusty and out of tune, waiting to yell at unsuspecting girls at any minute.

She shaved her head before and I thought she looked �like a boy�. I knew she was not that smart, but�

We talk and talk and when it gets down to waking up in the morning, I still have the book open.

I lose touch with people for a day and I feel like an exhaust pipe.

The best thing I remember was looking over and realizing the mountain would not tell me I had a call.

She looked best in the morning. Once a girl can look that good, that early, an inch away, she has me.

We make out and never talk about anything. Nobody knows, and nobody ever will.

She is on my mind more than she�s in my mind.

The other thing I need to do is always flush the toilet when I leave a bathroom, no matter what I did.

I feel like I just opened a letter from her. It�s always filled with good soul.

It always feels like this when I get around to talking about it. Clear and concise.

I have smoked five cigarettes in fifteen minutes.

I acted like I was one of them. I acted like I meant it. I asked for paper.

She walks around like she owns the fucking world, Susan.

Once they break in though, they have me. I never let them break in. Once this year, she was worth it.

I swear I never want anyone to get hurt. I�m always good hearted in the long run.

She wears this shirt that makes me just want to watch television with her.

We had a good time, and then I went on my way. Two more tornadoes, and a brush with the police.

Every morning I need to look out the window for two minutes before shower.

The key is to flip it when you can see that it�s not stuck to the pan.

They are out there, arranging more piles of sand to fuck with me. I hear them.

She looks like she could fuck like a mechanical bull.

I take these days in stride now, you can tell me if I am �too much for your mirror�.

I was almost attacked by Stevie Nicks riding a Unicorn last night.

Blues music is my only outlet now. It sucks when you�re not allowed to spit in private.

Once I told her that I would light her on fire, now I can�t handle the fact that she will die some day.

I wonder if certain women I�ve dated ever even think about me, bad or good. I party with them nightly.

She was scared as a bunny rabbit on crystal meth.

Phil Collins will one day be the president. Just wait.

Right now, I feel like I could jump out this window and fly.

She called me once. Just fucking once. Ever since, I tell myself she will return.

I wish I could run on back to Virginia Beach right now. The only place I�ve ever felt so shitty and so good.

I�m perplexed at how they operate. It�s almost like trying to teach a duck to write poetry.

She made me this chicken dish one night. That was the end of me.

There are more than one ways over the moat.

I piss people off at work, and then ignore them until I face them at the copy machine. Three nails at a time.

I opened up my eyes today. More than they�ve ever been open before.

She made her way in, and looked around, and realized she couldn�t redecorate. I wrote a song about her.

I told someone today that I never lie on the first date.

The last time I was at an amusement park I fell of the merry-go-round. Now I see stars over everyone.

She kissed me in public and we made a mixed drink in our mouths. I knew it was wrong, but she was on.

We talk about what it will be like to walk around Heaven on Quaaludes.

She has a funny way about her. Bringing sunlight as well as dreams to me every day. Temptation.

Some day I will stop looking at the hand obsessively.

We walk and argue about who fucked less people.

I knew she was bad news when she asked me if I liked �The Fucking Doors�.

Massachusetts has a funny way about making you feel like a goddamn loser.

We play phone tag, and I play connect the dots.

Hard to think about what that would have been like. We would have killed each other.

I hate them, and when they look at you like they do.

I need to open doors at the bottom of staircases after they have been properly closed.

She needs me and she knows it. Wait until I show her the contract she has to sign.

He comes home, checks his messages, and checks his arms. Everything is there, he sleeps.

She came to me with three problems; One being her thin, ugly mouth.

We drink and I make pretend I�m interested. This is how we get along.

She takes her pretty time while I look at old scratch marks on my left arm.

Finally I find her, and she ignores my eye contact.

Once you have them down, you need to start again. It�s so tedious now.

In your spare time, you should not do what you do in your spare time. You are losing.

She made me drink tequila, and I still went home and beat off and thought about the waitress.

It�s funny how many times I doubted what was happening to me. Now I write instructions.

The way it goes is this: you work for me, I work for you, and the money goes to the house.

She takes me seriously actually. I should think about that again.

One of these days we will run into each other again, then I will give her that dusty gift.

He tells me I should go for it. I ask him what he has invested in this. �----- -- ----- --- --------�.

Rain came and I shit my pants. I called Heather, Jeremy, and then Jesus.

Not sure if I want to die on cement, or a bed.

I met her and immediately made phone calls on the way home. �She�s crazy�. Yeah, but.

My one and only way to catch on is to just move on. Look, I know what you�re doing.

She is tall and has brown hair and eyes that look like rocks.

We pretend we don�t see each other, and then I fuck it up.

So exhausted I have to be awake when I sleep.

She is my one last hope for survival.

We walk amongst red bricks.

Taking time off from time.

She looked at me once.

It�s lonely out here.

Massachusetts.

Evenings.

Lonely.

Never.

Done.

Out.

before & after