Yeah so I got some work done...and I was like wow that was hard. Hard like a prisoners dick in a house full of nuns. Or harder than pee wee Hermans dick after a journey concert where they cover Jambi. Yeah pretty hard year. But past that, I'm sitting here minding my business, listening to some journey...kind of random not so much my style but it can have its moments, I'm looking for stuff online and see this headline on a YouTube url:
You Dont Say.....
Drop It Off
That's it I need to get it out. Like that dildo that got lost in the narcoleptic fags ass, I gotta putt some feelin on it. See I feel it dropped off with no stories and no manic depressive suicide murder rape scenes intensive in this breath mint eatin motherfucker, call it tums or eat it and shit it out all over the seat and holler yums.
So my face is swollen like I just went on a date with Mike Tyson and I'm tired as fuck from all the penicillin and hydrophone cocktails I've had over the past two days but.......as always I came here just for you. Maybe I should put my hand on your knee to make this a more personal experience? Ah, don't call the police...I thought maybe you were a new reader and that would be an acceptable practice....but alas so is the fate of a great man.
Who's up for living in a trailer? How about nutting in a fishbowl just to tell someone oh dude your fish is gay. I bet there's some takers on that. And for some reason I wouldn't doubt you reading this while sitting at the kitchen table in your underwear in the trailer right now. Maybe even naked...with your dick somewhere it doesn't belong.
Your Saint For Suicide as seen on your T.V.