"I'm a man, baby! *grunt-grunt-grunt* God I love you sexy people..."
One of these days I'm gonna find a way to separate myself from the many mistakes I make and have made throughout the entirety of my life. If mankind ever found out how to do that as a collective, people like Shawn and Marlon Wayans wouldn't be popular. Not that I'm riffing on their parents for having those two inbred incestual freaks, I'm just saying they should be drug out back and shot for ever considering having more children after the two funny ones popped out. Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying I'm a prize example to the best of the best of the bottom of the gene pool. Hell I don't even rate that sticky, thick, chewy layer of film that coagulates at the top of homemade pudding. I'm everything that's wrong with society. People like me in general make life worth living because it's always worth a lark to drag one of us out of our respective vehicles on the street and beat us into oblivion.
And if in existing merely to be someone for you to beat up I've managed to make your day brighter? Thank God for it. Why? Because the odds are I'm coming back in about five minutes in a stolen SUV with a picture of your ass on the front bumper, hoping against hope that you didn't flee the scene before I had the chance to recover and retaliate. Trust me, you've never felt pain until a black man runs you down in an SUV, puts it in reverse, backs up over you, repeats, backs up and freestyle tire-skids on your teeth. One of these days I'm gonna go all out, sparing no expense, to make sure every time you think of me you wince in pain or pleasure. I'd like to think, for many of you, that wince is a pleasurable one. Especially those of you whom I've gingerly fucked up the ass just before a guest spot on Jerry Springer where I reveal to the world that I'm really a female named Hannah with a penis and my husband, Elmer the Poodle, owns stock shares in Microsoft. No matter how you slice it, that's just how it's gonna be. Think about it, if you were a woman and you had a big penis, would you not use it in any way you could? I've had women tell me they'd be the biggest rapist on planet earth if they had one day to swing The Everlasting Meat Chain (tm) and do the Beefy Billyclub Bamba on a random bimbo.
And of course my sentiments drip with sarcasm and cynical, selfish reprieve, but honestly. Would you really want it any other way? Face down or lying on your side, that's the only way I'll screw the public. Why? Because in my experience, my inability to please my victim/sexual partner has lead to a history of Car Chase scenes which usually end in my brutal beating and hospitalisation; at least if your face down or on your side, it'll take you a minute to get up, yank on some pants and jump in the car, thus affording me precious, valuable seconds to get a good head start. What's this? Forte's riffing himself today? Possibly, but then again it shouldn't matter. I'm old. You're god damned right. I'm almost twenty and I have a right to bitch about being old. And old people, geriatrics, grown-ups-in-training, don't bother throwing your moccasins at me from across the fence. There's a 'No Return' policy here. Free stuff is free stuff, just because it's yours doesn't make it any less mine when I catch it and run for it before the cops get here.
I like a lot of people. A strange statement to hear from me, especially, since I hate everybody, but the truth is; I really do like a lot of people. My only failing is the fact that A) I like don't know 'em and B) They don't like me. At all. But I'd rather it stayed that way, it saves a lot of red tape on those days where I just up and decide to be a bastard and catch them outside talking to a friend, ironically enough, on the same day I'm spit shining my loaded handgun while driving down the street, steering the car with my knees and adjusting the laser sight using their head as a calibration primer.
Hey! Hey! The fact that they drop dead due to BulletinBrainitus has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I had the gun. Fuck you, I pay taxes. In fact I'm astonished that you'd make such an accu-fucking-sation! You think that last statement was somethin'? You just wait 'til I whip out my 'Manual Of Random War Veteran Nonsensical Shouts Of Rage' or my 'The Brown Teeth Britishman's Tooth Gnashing Insult Handbook'. Each volume comes with replacement gums for when yours become infected and have to be scraped out of your head with an Ice Cream Scoop labelled 'Dintest Eqwipment Du Nawt Tuch'.
Not to say your dentist is incompetent. Well, looking at your face I think it's safe to say: Not so much incompetent as just cruel, sadistic, insane, mean and wrong.
Forgive me, I didn't mean to call you ugly. Chances are I don't know you, will never know you and have no plans to meet you. But that's not entirely true, there are some people I wouldn't mind meeting- online. I have no desire to run into any of you in the real world to 'chit chat about old times'. Why? There are no old times. Sure we knew each other years ago via some chat forum or Roleplaying group but, honestly? I don't think running up to one another and saying, 'HEY, UNTHGAR THE WARRIOR, what up bro? Man, long time no battle cry. Hey!? Killed any Shrieking Banshee Bitches lately?' or, 'R-O-T-F-L-M-A-O! U R OF TEH FUNNI!'
And for the last time, I don't hate you. I just hate the fact that you're alive taking up valuable air that I could be saving in a bag down in my basement and waiting for the world to end so I can charge people per Ziplock Bag for the right to sigh with dejection. They hold in the freshness, you know? I predict that in the year 2050, if you ever aerated bags outside, you'll be able to sell things such as 'The Smell Of Air When It WASN'T Polluted', 'Grandma's Fart' and the long awaited, 'The Smell Of That Funky Guy That Never Took A Shower A Day In His Life That You Seem To Always End Up Sitting Next To On The Bus Or On A Plane'. That one's always a keeper. After all, in the future when we're all poor, diseased, polluted and starving, we'll all smell like our friend Pepe Pierre Le Pieu, thus stealing the whole unique experience of the scent of acrid, shit-stained pants, unwashed armpit hair, ass and day-old urine puddles!
I think I'd like to strangle people of varying races, creeds, sexual preferences and genealogies. Y'know, see if they still have that goofy accent and or lisp while you're choking the ever-loving fuck out of them and they're kicking, screaming and begging for that last gasp of breath that stands between them and darning Great Great Grandpa's socks. Am I saying I have a problem with blacks, whites, Mexicans, Chinese people, Japanese people, gay people and everyone else? Well if you say it like that it sounds like I'm prejudiced. I'm not prejudiced I just don't like you. Or him... or her... or her!
I'm just kidding. You're so cute. Marry me? I really need someone to marry me. I asked a few people before and they said no. L... listen, I'll pay you. All I ask is a blowjob now and again. Y'know, a little puff-puff. A little Slurp Down? A hummer between friends? Perhaps a bit of a hand job while you're down there? I repay the favor... Sometimes. I'm not as pathetic as I sound, I'm just lonely. Love me? And if not love then... perhaps just some casual, rampant backseat h@wt s3xx0rz? I cry out to you people... ANSWER me.
I'll just be standing outside of your house and or apartment waiting for your answer, K? ... I.. I love you. I'll double-coat wax your car... And for this one time offer, if you call within the next thirty minutes, I'll even massage your feet and tell you stories.
I like Pina Coladas...
And getting caught in the rain.
I... I'm not into yoga... I'm not sure about the half-a-brain part.
I like making love anywhere anytime. Screw midnight and the cape. Would you settle for the couch at my house with the Disney Channel on in the background as we Get Jiggy Wit The Wild Wiggly?
Anyway, ya'll. I'm OUT!
P.S. 'GOD I love this business...'
Probably on some kind of drug:
Hybrid: Out.
And if in existing merely to be someone for you to beat up I've managed to make your day brighter? Thank God for it. Why? Because the odds are I'm coming back in about five minutes in a stolen SUV with a picture of your ass on the front bumper, hoping against hope that you didn't flee the scene before I had the chance to recover and retaliate. Trust me, you've never felt pain until a black man runs you down in an SUV, puts it in reverse, backs up over you, repeats, backs up and freestyle tire-skids on your teeth. One of these days I'm gonna go all out, sparing no expense, to make sure every time you think of me you wince in pain or pleasure. I'd like to think, for many of you, that wince is a pleasurable one. Especially those of you whom I've gingerly fucked up the ass just before a guest spot on Jerry Springer where I reveal to the world that I'm really a female named Hannah with a penis and my husband, Elmer the Poodle, owns stock shares in Microsoft. No matter how you slice it, that's just how it's gonna be. Think about it, if you were a woman and you had a big penis, would you not use it in any way you could? I've had women tell me they'd be the biggest rapist on planet earth if they had one day to swing The Everlasting Meat Chain (tm) and do the Beefy Billyclub Bamba on a random bimbo.
And of course my sentiments drip with sarcasm and cynical, selfish reprieve, but honestly. Would you really want it any other way? Face down or lying on your side, that's the only way I'll screw the public. Why? Because in my experience, my inability to please my victim/sexual partner has lead to a history of Car Chase scenes which usually end in my brutal beating and hospitalisation; at least if your face down or on your side, it'll take you a minute to get up, yank on some pants and jump in the car, thus affording me precious, valuable seconds to get a good head start. What's this? Forte's riffing himself today? Possibly, but then again it shouldn't matter. I'm old. You're god damned right. I'm almost twenty and I have a right to bitch about being old. And old people, geriatrics, grown-ups-in-training, don't bother throwing your moccasins at me from across the fence. There's a 'No Return' policy here. Free stuff is free stuff, just because it's yours doesn't make it any less mine when I catch it and run for it before the cops get here.
I like a lot of people. A strange statement to hear from me, especially, since I hate everybody, but the truth is; I really do like a lot of people. My only failing is the fact that A) I like don't know 'em and B) They don't like me. At all. But I'd rather it stayed that way, it saves a lot of red tape on those days where I just up and decide to be a bastard and catch them outside talking to a friend, ironically enough, on the same day I'm spit shining my loaded handgun while driving down the street, steering the car with my knees and adjusting the laser sight using their head as a calibration primer.
Hey! Hey! The fact that they drop dead due to BulletinBrainitus has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I had the gun. Fuck you, I pay taxes. In fact I'm astonished that you'd make such an accu-fucking-sation! You think that last statement was somethin'? You just wait 'til I whip out my 'Manual Of Random War Veteran Nonsensical Shouts Of Rage' or my 'The Brown Teeth Britishman's Tooth Gnashing Insult Handbook'. Each volume comes with replacement gums for when yours become infected and have to be scraped out of your head with an Ice Cream Scoop labelled 'Dintest Eqwipment Du Nawt Tuch'.
Not to say your dentist is incompetent. Well, looking at your face I think it's safe to say: Not so much incompetent as just cruel, sadistic, insane, mean and wrong.
Forgive me, I didn't mean to call you ugly. Chances are I don't know you, will never know you and have no plans to meet you. But that's not entirely true, there are some people I wouldn't mind meeting- online. I have no desire to run into any of you in the real world to 'chit chat about old times'. Why? There are no old times. Sure we knew each other years ago via some chat forum or Roleplaying group but, honestly? I don't think running up to one another and saying, 'HEY, UNTHGAR THE WARRIOR, what up bro? Man, long time no battle cry. Hey!? Killed any Shrieking Banshee Bitches lately?' or, 'R-O-T-F-L-M-A-O! U R OF TEH FUNNI!'
And for the last time, I don't hate you. I just hate the fact that you're alive taking up valuable air that I could be saving in a bag down in my basement and waiting for the world to end so I can charge people per Ziplock Bag for the right to sigh with dejection. They hold in the freshness, you know? I predict that in the year 2050, if you ever aerated bags outside, you'll be able to sell things such as 'The Smell Of Air When It WASN'T Polluted', 'Grandma's Fart' and the long awaited, 'The Smell Of That Funky Guy That Never Took A Shower A Day In His Life That You Seem To Always End Up Sitting Next To On The Bus Or On A Plane'. That one's always a keeper. After all, in the future when we're all poor, diseased, polluted and starving, we'll all smell like our friend Pepe Pierre Le Pieu, thus stealing the whole unique experience of the scent of acrid, shit-stained pants, unwashed armpit hair, ass and day-old urine puddles!
I think I'd like to strangle people of varying races, creeds, sexual preferences and genealogies. Y'know, see if they still have that goofy accent and or lisp while you're choking the ever-loving fuck out of them and they're kicking, screaming and begging for that last gasp of breath that stands between them and darning Great Great Grandpa's socks. Am I saying I have a problem with blacks, whites, Mexicans, Chinese people, Japanese people, gay people and everyone else? Well if you say it like that it sounds like I'm prejudiced. I'm not prejudiced I just don't like you. Or him... or her... or her!
I'm just kidding. You're so cute. Marry me? I really need someone to marry me. I asked a few people before and they said no. L... listen, I'll pay you. All I ask is a blowjob now and again. Y'know, a little puff-puff. A little Slurp Down? A hummer between friends? Perhaps a bit of a hand job while you're down there? I repay the favor... Sometimes. I'm not as pathetic as I sound, I'm just lonely. Love me? And if not love then... perhaps just some casual, rampant backseat h@wt s3xx0rz? I cry out to you people... ANSWER me.
I'll just be standing outside of your house and or apartment waiting for your answer, K? ... I.. I love you. I'll double-coat wax your car... And for this one time offer, if you call within the next thirty minutes, I'll even massage your feet and tell you stories.
I like Pina Coladas...
And getting caught in the rain.
I... I'm not into yoga... I'm not sure about the half-a-brain part.
I like making love anywhere anytime. Screw midnight and the cape. Would you settle for the couch at my house with the Disney Channel on in the background as we Get Jiggy Wit The Wild Wiggly?
Anyway, ya'll. I'm OUT!
P.S. 'GOD I love this business...'
Probably on some kind of drug:
Hybrid: Out.