You tropical zest filled motherfucker. On my hands and knees at your Croix,  My scorched lips part in merciless thirst, And I begin my prayer:   Fill me up. Come through me.  I...

Oh, how the mighty (me) have fallen. I’m back home in my shitty little baby bedroom surrounded by my Anglophile paraphernalia (One Direction posters and a random print that says, "London"). But worst...