[overdoseandcomatose]
Oh his name was Guy and he didn't care about too much except those damned cryptoquotes in the newspaper. He never could figure them out, all he did was make up his own words in them, whether they fit or not.
"A YWOG BWP" was really "I love you" but to him, it was, "Geese are violent and protective and they have eyes on the sides of their heads."
He didn't care too much.
He was on his porch the other day, randomly thinking about NASA, when a stray dog approached him and whined and wagged his tail all helplessly and begging like. Guy petted him and fed him some beer.
That dog took to him, probably because he was drunk, but Guy didn't care. Even false love is love. Even diluted affection is affection. It's so much better than being alone.
So Guy, he kept the dog and named it Chad.
Guy was on top of the world 'cause lonliness didn't exist and he didn't need to get a patch to starve his addictions and he drank a twelve pack a day with Chad.
One day, though, this girl named Reality... she came to his door and said that Chad was hers, that he had run away almost three months ago. Well Guy didn't want to give him up, but right when Chad saw Reality, he went runnin' towards her all happy like. Not even the Bud Light could stop him now.
And Guy, he wanted what made that dog happy so he gave him up all sad like. He was all lonely and drank beer on his porch alone. He resorted to Golden Girls.
He resorted to feminism pamphlets.
He resorted to CSNBC.
He resorted to Infommercials.
He resorted to silence.
He resorted to a deadbeat LAY-Z-BOY.
He wrote stories about Napolean Boneparte and about how he was short, left handed, and cat hatin'.
He wrote stories about how Coca Cola was more profitable than Pepsi because every bar sells Rum & Coke, and Jack & coke,etc..
He wrote stories about a cryptoquote guy who liked Dutch, picked his teeth with scissors, and watched TV shows about elderly women that live together and are funny and prone to disaster.
His endeavors for convalesence were half hearted, but some part of him wanted to be together. To feel mutual.
So one day he was sittin' out on the porch with a beer, with the door open so he could hear his Foreigner CD playing, when a beautiful Gordon Setter approached him. He'd never seen a dog so beautiful. With long, wavy, shiny reddish brown hair. With no collar. With no name. With perfectly white teeth.
Guy, well, he stared at this dog until the dog started whimpering, obviously starved for his addiction to affection. That dog, well, he was stubborn and ambition so he walked up to Guy and put his paw up, only to knock over Guy's beer, then he bent his head down and started licking it off the dusty porch.
It can be found anywhere.
INADILWH.
"A YWOG BWP" was really "I love you" but to him, it was, "Geese are violent and protective and they have eyes on the sides of their heads."
He didn't care too much.
He was on his porch the other day, randomly thinking about NASA, when a stray dog approached him and whined and wagged his tail all helplessly and begging like. Guy petted him and fed him some beer.
That dog took to him, probably because he was drunk, but Guy didn't care. Even false love is love. Even diluted affection is affection. It's so much better than being alone.
So Guy, he kept the dog and named it Chad.
Guy was on top of the world 'cause lonliness didn't exist and he didn't need to get a patch to starve his addictions and he drank a twelve pack a day with Chad.
One day, though, this girl named Reality... she came to his door and said that Chad was hers, that he had run away almost three months ago. Well Guy didn't want to give him up, but right when Chad saw Reality, he went runnin' towards her all happy like. Not even the Bud Light could stop him now.
And Guy, he wanted what made that dog happy so he gave him up all sad like. He was all lonely and drank beer on his porch alone. He resorted to Golden Girls.
He resorted to feminism pamphlets.
He resorted to CSNBC.
He resorted to Infommercials.
He resorted to silence.
He resorted to a deadbeat LAY-Z-BOY.
He wrote stories about Napolean Boneparte and about how he was short, left handed, and cat hatin'.
He wrote stories about how Coca Cola was more profitable than Pepsi because every bar sells Rum & Coke, and Jack & coke,etc..
He wrote stories about a cryptoquote guy who liked Dutch, picked his teeth with scissors, and watched TV shows about elderly women that live together and are funny and prone to disaster.
His endeavors for convalesence were half hearted, but some part of him wanted to be together. To feel mutual.
So one day he was sittin' out on the porch with a beer, with the door open so he could hear his Foreigner CD playing, when a beautiful Gordon Setter approached him. He'd never seen a dog so beautiful. With long, wavy, shiny reddish brown hair. With no collar. With no name. With perfectly white teeth.
Guy, well, he stared at this dog until the dog started whimpering, obviously starved for his addiction to affection. That dog, well, he was stubborn and ambition so he walked up to Guy and put his paw up, only to knock over Guy's beer, then he bent his head down and started licking it off the dusty porch.
It can be found anywhere.
INADILWH.