I have only been posting on this site for a few weeks now and I hope that my lunacy is at least somewhat amusing and possibly even entertaining.


Okay, my readers. I see many of you reading now. I also see so many that are fucking confused by what they are trying to read. All my writing is fictional, well, except for when I am talking about myself. Even then, pretty hard to believe. So don't. I am not here fucking preaching or trying to get laid. Although now that I mention...

Queen of Fire and the Whorehouse
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./’./
The Queen of fire streaked across the sky so fast she covered continents like a supersonic meteor. She smashed through mountains just to slow down and eventually began to tumble along the ground. She tumbled like a ball of fire right to the steps of KT’s Cathouse. This place was the dirtiest hole in the world, well maybe Big Bertha’s hole was. Big Bertha was only one of the whores who made this place famous.
///\.,...

GPSHardware is now on Twitter - so please follow for exiting updates.
http://twitter-badges.s3.amazonaws.c...low_bird-c.png

We have also added a 2" long by 3/8" diameter cone spike cut from solid brass to our catalog. They are not up on the official website just yet, but they are available on our ETSY Page in packs of 10.
http://ny-image2.etsy.com//il_430xN.121405426.jpg

In other news, we have an add coming out in this months...

The Fire Queen Reborn
Okay this is Psychobabble extreme and full on flurry. About four thousand years ago the fire queen was banished and locked away inside of a quartz crystal. Corny idea but it’s what happened so fuck off. She was not destroyed nor was she put to sleep. She was guarded by generation after generation of monks who were sworn to hide her for all time.
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Now skip ahead like a cliché future jump to now. A monk is standing and looking at the fire queen...

For nearly a life time I have followed the strict architectural designs of grammar and writing etiquette. I have used and manipulated words on a level not many can comprehend. Then as a request to a dying friend I tossed it into the bin.
She begged me to “let it out” and to release what was inside. Was she a muse? Only here long enough to shred my heart and leave me with a desire to write again?
Picture this for a moment and see why my psychobabble is so entertaining. There is...