“Why hello!” he yelled as we strolled into the hatshop. I still hadn’t decided what color I wanted. I was hoping Cecil the chapeau seller could help me, fit the perfect hat that accented my bald head, that petrified as the molten oil hit it, I didn’t expect it and Spencer really thought he had killed me - I thought I was dead, but I wasn’t. But I was damned thirsty. A nice cold beer, and a quick fuck. Yah thats what I really needed now. I’d settle for a warm beer and a handjob, but a man’s gotta have ambitions, maybe if I run around in circles for an hour or two then I could finally activate the drugs in my system. Maybe I could get a puppy instead of a goldfish that will serve as sushi for my next dinner party I request that you remember to wear underpants and refrain from peeing on the plants - i SACK THAT SHIT UP, contain it lest the carbos escape. Stuffy little fluffy stuff, your martyrdom is a poor excuse for participation, your fanaticism, a bad example of constipation, let things out.
Narrowly missing his first chance to meet the creators of his favorite multiplayer sexomotis he decided to hyjack their bus, but it was old and he was inept. A pack of hippies is worth about as much as a cum-sponge, or at least that’s how Pops put it. Ah, ‘good ole’ Pops. No on threw a punch like Pops except for the Moms, She was in fact, not really sure of “Mom” was a concept she believed. She was not even sure if “parenthood” was an idea she could support. If that was what it took to get laid then she decided she was going to make a living at it, just imagine the ability to walk down the street see someone that I want to be my personal slave and presto! boombA! You have Mr. Smijmy answering to your beckon call, “How may I help?” A small ripple in the time space crackled through a blu-haired ladies bonnet and at his feet landed the most spectacular looking golden egg that Roy had ever seen. “I guess I’ll take that!” But Roy pushed the old fucker out of the way, scooped up the golden egg like a professional football player and shot for the nearest exit, “You’ll never get my golden egg fuckers!”
I realized I was going to have to hide that goddamned egg immediately. Unfortunately the only place to hide the egg was my ass. So I pushed it so far up my asshole that the doctor couldn’t find it.
Things have a way of working themselves out. Once I went to the wrong bar, but it turned out great because Stereolab was playing as a secret show. Or maybe I dreamt that. Either way, the moral holds pretty true. Fate is like that. Cruel, cruel fate. How could fate do this? I really really wanted that bacon. Mmm, soo very crispy. Like tin foil but salty and metallic just the way i like my dildos and pickles were the only hor devours on hand, in hand, and generally laying about in over abundance. “My word we have a serious cleaning job ahead if that is the only thing on the menu, that wasn’t cooked in lard-flavored shortening. Really, I’m so fucking full right now that I want to puke up a shitty pizza and large intestines. Although I might want them later. So I put them in my pocket, hopefully they wouldn’t melt like last time. That was a sticky mess, all over the floor and really hard to mop up. It would require demolition complete and utter destruction, nothing.
