Thurfakesday

some fake-bikies come over: they wear fake-boots and fake-patches; use fake-words to describe fake-harley davidson, fake-triumph, fake-bsa bikes. they bring with them fake-friends; proceed to talk loud about fake-plans and fake-intentions for all manner of fake-acts. all of them from the fake-badlands down-south, where fake-weather reeks fake-havoc on their fake-farms and fake-homes. but then things get heated - I speak out of turn. fake-punches are thrown; fake-blood spills across my carpet. fake-bottles smash as they fake-rage and fake-threaten me with all manner of fake-harm. then they fake-leave and set fire to my house. now I'm on the fucking street