Its a Rushed Job

1:45 am. Two lonely boys, desperate for sleep/thrills. Crawl to their Icey premature graves, in not one, but two solid rounds of the weather game. Ooooh I can feel my extremities falling off already. Two boys, suppressing the gag reflex, chow down on an hourly plate of cold coma. Yours Assley,
Luke + Elliot
The Blogger Criminals.