3,000 years of itching without a hand to scratch with, or a nose to wiggle. i’m pretty sure that’s what DEATH feels like if you scored low on your s.a.t.’s, so stay in school, kids. being crazy got boring after the first 1,000 years so i started writing poetry. i suck at poetry. so i started singing songs. BIG MISTAKE. when you’re a disembodied consciousness and you get “boys of summer” stuck in your head… well, i’ll take the itching. || independent, semi-private, and selective PATRICK ‘EEL’ O’BRIAN, aka PLASTIC MAN. penned by scotch.