wolfmechanics

My name is Ashley and I'm 22 years old. I'm from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania but I currently live in Buffalo, New York where I attend college. I live with my boyfriend and our cat named Mr. Bojangles :)

I'm a big fan of music and am very involved with the hardcore and punk scenes. I enjoy going for bicycle rides, traveling, and collecting CDs and vinyl.

I'm very interested in receiving artistic postcards (NOT hand-made) that feature things like: photography, paintings, illustrations, sculptures, 80s & 90s cartoons, pin-up girls, comics, video games, punk & political culture, bicycles, fashion, pop culture, historical figures, calligraphy, ballet, skeletons, zombies and horror, graffiti, skateboarding, surfing, snowboarding, tattoos, musical instruments...

I also like topographical postcards from your town or city featuring things like: city skylines, architecture, night scenes, landscapes, busy streets, subways and trolleys, cathedrals, castles, museums, monuments, cemeteries, ancient artifacts, natural wonders...

Those wolf mechanics! Those wolf mechanics!

And today, you beat the fortune teller to death with your bare hands. Was it his smirk, laugh, or the ostrich feather taped to his purple hat? He read the lines on your palm, chanted a creole song. "It is soon you will die, and angels don't take bribes."

Don't linger.. On the skylight.. You smashed it into the man's skull.

Just run back to the alley. Tell jokes to the bricks, and the rats. Because one man's murder scene, is another champagne party. One man's severed spine, is a soldier's war decoration.

WOLF MECHANICS! Flare up; again. Oh, you make your way back to the Financial District. The subway's a numb field. And every dazed boy and girl makes you lick your lips. And the girl with the accordion, oh-oh. Chewing grass like a lamb. She hands you the juicy eye, and then she laughs at your pathetic tie.

Don't linger... On the grin you gouged in her throat. Just take the subway home. But, the wife and kids twinkle like stuffed dogs.

And you're like The stormy ocean now! Collecting death like driftwood!

These wolf mechanics bangin'! Those wolf mechanics crashin'!

One man's suicide, is a credit company's bride. One man's poisoned mind, is a pharmaceutical goldmine.

You bring your kill, from the savanna and bake it in the sun. But the heat warps it's flesh, you see the face of God in the tarry mess. And.. Those wolf mechanics bangin'! Those wolf mechanics crashin'!