I finally took a trip to visit the place from where my white velco shoes spawn. The stream that produces them flows into a very beautiful pool with a nice little beach where old leathery fishermen cast their nets to retrieve them. They release the flipping fish because it's just the white shoes they are after.
I'm totally into sustainable living.
I went down to my garage and someone elses in-laws were down there nosing around my Cadillac getting their old gummy fingers all over it. Not wanting any interaction with them I retaliated by teaching their grand kids, who were having a meeting in the back yard, to yell "fuck" a lot.
Pick your battles yo.
My old roommate showed up to start trouble but I nipped it in the bud. I cleaned up my act and paid all my outstanding tickets and totally came clean with everything.
She was bummed that she didn't get to yell.
But that's because she doesn't know that yelling without swearing is counter productive. I tried to tell her that yelling "fuck" a lot would make her feel better. Too bad she's a Mormon.
Poor Mormons don't get to swear.
I'm a humanitarium.
Point is:
Fuck.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught thinking *flipping* was a wuss fucking substitution for *fucking* when the fucking fish were fucking literally fucking flipping.
Your Favorite Trouble Mustache That Requires Daily Removal,
Madonna's Hot Dog Scrubber
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