Poemranker [Replying] Thu Nov 21 10:16:31 PST 2024

Replying to a comment on:

Nicholas Martin (Other) by horus8

To the poets of poemranker & those who knew the ingenius poetry of Settle; A very strange thing happened to me today. I received a phone call from his Mother. Apparently, Nicholas, decided to hang himself dead in his apartment. Nicholas, was my friend, and a brilliant young man. Why he chose to end his life at twenty years of age is just incredibly unjustifiable and a fucking shame. I had him over for dinner earlier this Summer, and I sensed he was depressed, but this is just unbelievable and very disturbing to me. Therefore, I will keep this short. For those of you that shared an interest in his mind as I very much did... Take a moment with me now. A young and beautiful artist has left the building permanently. God bless you Nicholas, and you and your family will be in mine, and my family's prayers. 9-12-03. With love, and condolences, Jeremi Britt Handrinos.

horus8

14-Sep-03/3:08 AM

Is it? I don't go to whittier or your house sweetheart, because, i don't regress, whittier disgusts me, and it always has. i would suggest in the future when you decide to drop by my house unexpected, and eat my fucking food, take twenty five bucks worth of my concert tickets which = food out of my sons mouth. don't be surprised if people have things to do when you drop by out of the blue to feed your fucking cripple at my house, and i'm playing guitar? oh, i'm sorry, but that's what i do every day whether, you're here with what's his name or not. "If you had a sacred relationship with those you love, and live with you stop your whoring" i do what i have to do for money. You do it for free. By the way, i'll air whatever i want wherever i want. i don't live on eggshells or in a glass house. You could have told me you weren't going, pick up the phone? Those tickets came out of my pocket, not yours, or the gimps. That was just a fucking cheap thing to do. Also, i would always rather play guitar, than chat up the fucking wounded retards you drag over to my home. My house is not a fucking diner for the handicap, or the poetically challenged (Raphael, or whoever is on your list of potential face cream donors). Also, you took money out of my sons mouth. i told you don't take the tickets if you couldn't go. That came out of my pocket. You could have called, I would have had Nadine grab them, and give them to someone that gave a shit. You know as well as i do, My ego doesn't fluctuate, and this has nothing to do with me, or what i do for a living, or anything like that, don't change the subject, and go brush your fucking teeth, what you did was lazy and cheap, so spare me. And remember, i can back my ego up with brains, cock, and pure charisma, not to mention the physical ability to snap peoples heads off. That's not ego missy, that's reality.

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