Yiak

The weather was so perfect when I woke up. It made me wonder if I had lung cancer already. I never really gave two flying fucks about the weather before and you never really
 I thought to myself "dont be such a party pooper. Spending an afternoon on a yacht with strangers who dance to the beat of songs that give them imperative instructions is not on my wish list but...It would be much worst to be held prisoner in a warehouse surrounded by evangelist hostages and Tool fans... The yacht ride doesn't sound so bad now, does it?"

Shake your muffin, move to the left, walk in a straight line, touch your nose... What is that all about? It sounds like some sort of manual to teach retarded people how to fornicate. Human behavior is mesmerizing. I really dont understand the purpose of the abusive usage of the command "give it me" "give me more" "show me what you've got". As if it was such a big deal ! A pecker and a cunt...Get over it. 

It will be like riding a wheel-less bus with people who aimlessly repeat the word acre as some sort of validation shield and wipe their ass with toilet paper made of clouds  by Dolce & Gabanna. I just hope they give out Bible foldouts as napkins... 

Maybe I should come up with some sort of evil of plan, I'd be thrilled to boycott such decorous event ... and I dont mean a good plan, I mean any random plan that would distract me from this urge to sink in a bathtub filled with rocket fuel...
  Im really good at puking. I could throw up inside someone's purse and steal their passports.

I'll tell everyone I have touretts and the only way to reduce the symptoms is smoking pot and drinking a full bottle of benadryl twice a day. I would rather give acid to the chipmunks in the zoo like last weekend. But I wouldn't mind swearing and spitting like Rick James in a Rehab Clinic sharing a meal with Lindsay Lohan. 

I mean I have to do it for biographic purposes. 

What are my options ? One the one hand I could spend a revolting evening nodding my head with a handful of shrimp, although, I know that considering that option would be a idiotic attempt to fool the shit out of myself...that cut the  mustard where I come from, I have a low tolerance for bullshit....On the other hand, I have different fingers...so I guess Imna fuck shit up!

I'd better get busy, I have to eat enough Cheetos and drink enough Orange Juice to decorate 11 expensive purses. Salami I cant forget salami, thats the what accentuates the stench of a voluptuous puddle of puke.

Fine linen and leather, cheetos, salami and orange juice will stick together till the end, thats a safe bet.