I really admire the way you can carve tang. But even though you were a player in college doesn’t mean that you’ve won. Sure, fuk them across the room when you think I’m sleeping. But I have found something better. I can’t tell you here cause people might read this. Have you ever heard of Vitalitronics?
I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle. But I’ve always had problems sitting on my nuts. I could never find a comfortable bike seat. I’d always end up sitting on one of my balls right in my ass. If I reverse farted the ball would go up my ass and I almost got two herneas that way.
If you’re looking for the ultimate hernea! All it takes is one nymphomaniac and a bunk bed. Get into kneeling position on top bunk. Allow nymphomaniac to perform oral favors. Urge nymphomaniac to jump off of bed while still attached. Watch your nuts grow.
There used to be jobs getting stoned. When there were kings, they often hired stoners to test the food. Make sure the king didn’t get poisoned. A lot of stoners have a tremendous tolerance to pcp.
I’m gonna have to pack another bongrip if I want to stay up any longer. I just powered a super fat rip out of a sobe bottle. The phlegm is building up in my throat. I need some beer bad. Or some soy milk. I’m blasted out of my mind right now. The beer is being cooled in the freezer. I just finished the vanilla soy milk.
I’m still waiting for that shit beer to be cold enough to swallow. Even the shittiest beer tastes good when it’s just above freezing. There was a bar across the street where I used to live in LA. It was called Lost & Found. The bartender looked like Mr. Witherspoon in Scooby Doo. A guy that looked like a sea captain in his last emaciated days after spending fourteen days in a life boat with scurvy. Tiny Arms and I would play darts. You were greeted by a guy falling on his barstool. I’d have to cross a busy street stumbling drunk. Dragging my head across the asphalt. Sometimes I had to crawl down to the stop light and then crawl across on the walk signal. If you’ve ever been to Aspen you know about dragging your head on the ground. I’ve never done so much coke.
I often wake up to cats fukin on the roof. We used to have a neighbor that was really loud having sex. Either that or the glass I held against the wall was tits. After I get home from the bar I’ll take my shirt off and pose to check the progress.
Me and Purvis would hang out on the riverbank waiting for the hookers to float by. I would wait on a tree limb and when one floated by, I would land on her and start pumpin. Purvis had a rope that he would swing in from the shore and do a flip and land inside one. It was the only way to make the summer go faster. I couldn’t wait to get back to school cause my shop teacher was my grass connection.
I just got the skids. Theres liqua-turd pounding out my ass right now into the toilet. I ate some spoiled peltsteak this morning. I’ve never been let down before. Have you ever seen a baby horse being born? I’ve seen it happen in The Netherlands. Its cool. Did you know the first thing that a baby horse says is marijuana.
I just picked a hard skinny bugur and scraped it under the table. The end had a sticky little drop that held it on. I’ve got pretty mean cotton mouth now. I’ll probably destroy the refrigerator soon. All the convenience food and anything I can roll in a tortilla will be gone by morning. I’ve been drinking a lot of wine these days. Usually I like a good middle priced beer with my grass. Sometimes I enjoy a Miller Low Life. But we’ve been getting a lot of that shitbomb wine from Trader Joes. Charles Shaw. It actually goes well with white widow or jack herrar hash blasters. After two bottles it feels like there are ants moving back and forth down my dick hole. When I try to pump a piss it ends up coming out triple forked so I’ll drench my leg, hit the rim of the toilet, and above the back tank on the wall.
“You do not let reject by butchery right in front of and take a room on the floor,” yelled Aunt Purvis. Was it me or the cat tranquilizers? At times Aunt Purvis had been known to smoke crack before lunch but the Pukester and I were having serious trouble interpreting her broken English. Instead of taking a room on the floor, I squeezed out a little turdball onto the top of my shoe and hacky sacked it into the salad bowl. Uncle Meatplow snapped it out with his fork and gobbled it down with a leaf of basil.
After brunch, Puke and I went to the barn to drop some acid. We built an igloo out of hay bales and then I called some hookers. Meanwhile a goat was walking up the wall and Puke’s pet monkey was huffing gas from the tractor. After what seemed like 47 seconds, a flatbed truck filled with hookers and blacksmiths backed up into the barn. The smallest blacksmith came up to me and asked for the cash in advance.
“What’s with all the chumps?” I asked.
“Thems the bodyguards. There’s a lot of funny stuff happening around this side of town.”
“There’s still a couple tabs left if ya’ll want to share the rest of the LSD.”
“Thanks but no thanks. We just came back from smoking PCP. You don’t mind if your pud gets chewed on a bit. Some of the performers are on uppers as well.”
I spent the next twelve hours drooling on myself while the Pukester got his money’s worth. When I finally snapped out of my trip, our parents were already back from their vacation. It was time to go back home.
I tried to take a piss the next morning, but when I flipped out the general, it looked like a stick of gum that had been stomped on by a football team.