My Life, My Toilet & You...
While driving down the freeway of life today I stumbled upon a magical door that led me into the land of forgotten children (Linbergs child) and racism (take your pick). Now I was not in an actual car, but one in my mind and the magical door was a tumor. Yes, I have cancer. Will I die, that is up to the American public to decide. If they want me to live, then they will send $2 million dollars in aid to my tumor (inside me). There the tumor in question will take a vacation from the stress of tumor life (radiation therapy) and hopefully die there leaving me once again with my lonesome. The moral of this tale is to never misjudge your friends because once they leave you for a better friend, you will be alone in this world (because deep down you're an asshole).
My toilet keeps running. It is fun, I'll put a small piece of unused paper in there and it will spin slowly and also get sucked downward in the same process. It runs for about ten minutes before it stops. Now I know what your saying, "so what?" Trust me its awesome and of course you'll have to take my word for it because no one will ever come to my place. It is like a dorm. People party outside at 3 a.m. never at 2 or 4, no it must be 3 because if they miss the 3 a.m. party time, then life has no meaning. We all must blast our car bass to extreme levels in order to court the opposite sex into preforming some type of dance with us (tango). For more information on this dance please consult Mike S. and no the 's' does not stand for stupid head, why? because we all know Mike doesn't have a head, but instead a pod of existence growing from his neck. That children is the wonder we call masturbation and many would be lost without it.
And as for you. Do excuse yourself because you're making out like an ass while trying to invade Siam while playing Risk. You have Australia and that is all you'll ever get. By all means call a doctor because that child is coming out and it is too late for an abortion you monster.
*warning-- killing your child right after birth is not an abortion, but murder and only the stupid get caught for it and the poor*
please help control the child population and sign our bill that will send all young space cadets to Mars for further testing on why they were born
And this is my life.
My toilet keeps running. It is fun, I'll put a small piece of unused paper in there and it will spin slowly and also get sucked downward in the same process. It runs for about ten minutes before it stops. Now I know what your saying, "so what?" Trust me its awesome and of course you'll have to take my word for it because no one will ever come to my place. It is like a dorm. People party outside at 3 a.m. never at 2 or 4, no it must be 3 because if they miss the 3 a.m. party time, then life has no meaning. We all must blast our car bass to extreme levels in order to court the opposite sex into preforming some type of dance with us (tango). For more information on this dance please consult Mike S. and no the 's' does not stand for stupid head, why? because we all know Mike doesn't have a head, but instead a pod of existence growing from his neck. That children is the wonder we call masturbation and many would be lost without it.
And as for you. Do excuse yourself because you're making out like an ass while trying to invade Siam while playing Risk. You have Australia and that is all you'll ever get. By all means call a doctor because that child is coming out and it is too late for an abortion you monster.
*warning-- killing your child right after birth is not an abortion, but murder and only the stupid get caught for it and the poor*
please help control the child population and sign our bill that will send all young space cadets to Mars for further testing on why they were born
And this is my life.