my forgotten love

Yet again, today it seems has fallen directly into my lap, with no sense of justice or pride, it licks my soul with a forked tongue of deceit.

With dramatic poetry like that, I outa make a myprofile.com page!!! SO I DID!!!! Im sick of seeing everyones poopy pants bullcrappy diaries about how they got their lip pierced the day before yesterday and it upset their mother, but they don’t care and will do what they want or some other bullshittery that somehow infects my life with its overly grotesque “look at me” sense of play. Its as I always say, “you cant slay them with a 12 foot prehensile penis, join em”. Tenticle sex aside, (for now) lets get down to the fact.

Fact#1: im not wearing any pants

Fact#2: I wish we were married, you and I

Fact#3: omfgomfgomfg I just farted and it stinks really bad

The train that was once the courier of my thought has derailed and destroyed a village of ompa-lompas. I had to walk (not run, safety first) away from my computer because the butt-stank was so bad. I assume a small stink-critter has burrowed his way into my butt muscles and secrets his deadly venom-gas every now and again, just to torment me. Fucking stink-critters.

I had some sort of qusai-topical think I wanted to rant about today, but for the life/death of me, I cant seem to regain that memory. I suppose “it” will have to “wait” until “later”.

Thank you Cleveland, goodnight?

Demo
Self proclaimed king of baddassery (and all adjoining constructs of sweetness)