Dead ones, in my belly. A lady ask hows my dog doing…so I sent back a pic of my plate full of Chinese food. She called the cops. Then I had to run, break three ribs and then have them removed to stop them from puncturing my lungs…but man is Saturday night a lot more fun now. Oh? Is he back on that good shit? The ball is back?
But I want you to know this may be the end of the road…the counts on crack and he had a stroke so getting past this volume of five is gonna be a real exercise in measured rehabilitation. While I in my compassion for all life just suggest you give him a 50 caliber and suggest he play Russian roulette with Oscar the grouch.