not sure about the neon

I think people are talking shit about me in my sleep...calling me crazy and dreaming of texting people and telling them off because for some reason i have the inability to speak out loud. as phil collins and bone thugs said 'take...take me home because i dont remember' burning the fat off my soul perrequest of mr. H and brother scotty - the countdown to doomsday is in full effect and the world will end in those nights in the fresh spring air of STL - let the coke parties and strippers with toys join us and we'll just buy them drinks and tell them to wear something nice to the outting and never mention they strip, but randomly have them produce dildos like sexual illusionists...invite david coppefield perhaps