Wednesday, July 27, 2005

This isn't a post...

Current mood: Mirage

.. but a figment of your fucked mind. You've been beating off too much. And eating too much food. Life has obviously been unkind to you. How many chins do you have anyway, I count three but there could be a couple of hidden chins. And you are loosing your hair. You don't know where to look for it. Jeez, where were you last with hair? Did you try there? Oh, no luck. Perhaps, the air growing your your ass is the hair that isn't growing on your head.
Did you already eat today? Why are you eating again? You know you have to go to bed soon. Food will just keep you awake, food that will be decomposing in you while you toss and turn in your bed. A good wank won't help you now, you stupid bastard. Be prepared for a groggy morning followed by a grey day. And go outside. The sun will hurt a bit for a day or two but you will get used to it. And you will enjoy it. Rotting in front of the computer won't get you a girfriend. Boy, you stink. Take a shower. And shave your face. And get a fucking life.

No comments:

Post a Comment