I took a trip to Big Ham City. I t wasn't fun, don't look it up and don't go there. It's just a bunch of bad actors acting badly.
Stupid fucking name for a city too.
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I watched an Office Depot employee put a price tag on a price tag.
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I visited an old roommate of mine who is married to the biggest blogger in the universe. I slept on the couch and he sacred the fuck out of me when his sleeping disorder kicked in and caused him to mime a bunch of stuff up on the coffee table.
From what I could tell, I think he was dream eating spaghetti and maybe kayaking.
Sleepwalkers are basically zombies.
His wife, while sometimes tolerable on her blog, (if you like excuses/jokes about depression and the exploitation of offspring and pets (which of course I sometimes do)) wasn't so charming in true life. She couldda been the mayor of the aforementioned avoid worthy pork centric city.
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I went to an early matinee.
Nobody told me that's when the folk singing clowns go see movies.
Actual real clowns with floppy shoes and honking stuff.
They nearly wrecked the movie till I gave them the what for.
I yelled really loudly for a really long time at those clowns.
A lot of rage I didn't even know I had came flooding out.
It felt good.
Summary:
Clown Abuse = Honky Catharsis
That's all for now.
Don't get caught getting all mixed up in clown pity.
Your Number One Most Popular Alternative Vietnamese Clown Nose Placement Location,
Your Dong Tip Duh
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