Good grief! As that bald little fuck in the yellow shirt with the squiggly lines would say. What's his name? oh yeah, Mervin, right? He's that wimpy turd i met at the leukemia treatment center last week ... Poor fella, he always tries to punt that football but the damn cancer won't let him. What's it's name? oh yeah, Lucy. Fucking skank ( Read more... )

Old people are like walking holograms from the past, only the projections are blurry and yell at random objects and shit their pants a lot ( Read more... )

Rubberband pinochle reflects the apples of our society. The masters of grief fry the hands of those who feed from beneath.

Surrealist expression toward those who judge and dismiss.

Haven't shaved my face dome in a week and, i must say, Grizzly Adam's balls would shrivel up into tiny Craisins if he caught a gander. That is, if he was real and shit. I'll probably shave tomorrow, though, so's i can gets the ladies ... oh, wait! That's right, what ladies? I hope that read as sarcastic as i meant it.

Now, I may not be a wimp, but I'm certainly not that strong. It's not like I could be a bouncer or anything. Well, maybe a bouncer at a bar on a leper colony. When those Leps get that demon booze inside of them it's guaranteed there will be arms and legs flying every which way. How easy would it be to take down a lep without any appendages? Pretty ( Read more... )

Buddha thinks he's the cats pajamas, with that smug grin, but could he take on the Hulkster? I think not, Buddha would be pounded into a bloody, pile of spiritually enlightened pulp. Andre the Giant's ghost would be an entirely different story. He'd pound the ever-loving bejeebus out of both of them then proceed to join sides with the Dreaded ( Read more... )

I wish I could be spiritually ignorant, just wandering about with the belief that everything I see or touch or consume is purposeful. With agnosticism it's like you're always saying, "what the hell is this crap ... really?"

I'm going to market an energy drink made from the tears of 6 to 8 year old Malaysian factory workers. God knows they cry a lot, stupid little babies. "Wah, I cut my pinky finger on the industrial saw again". Sheesh, when will they grow up and get a life?

"Shamma-lamma Ding-Dong". If anyone can guess the film this appeared in you win the grand prize: I won't punch your damn face off.

Vague vacuous thoughts placate the ideas conjured from memories and vent the frustrations of the vilified. Vandals vacate the areas of which they are bested by the more artistically invested ( Read more... )