Boom. the smell of gunpowder and a smacked head against a typewriter. H.T.'s not shakin that off. My god, the king is dead. May you be in divine breathe. How did I even get into his room. Now that his head is open I should sneak in there? Well, I've bought the ticket so I better take the ride. Hello! hEllo! HeLLO! It is a cavernous cranium. Maybe the brain will make me go gonzo! GONZO!
Damn. It just smells bad. Bad brains. This is never gonna come out. Staining a new shirt is like premature ejaculation. You there! You got it. You look fly and then the ink spills. Stained before its time. This shirt had another good one to two years. Oh well, at least it is H.T's brains and not some Dodo like Gallagher. Wait I am tuning something in....
Wooo....it is like a tumor of whores, street walking in my head. Everyone is throwing blowjobs at me with different prices.
"You're not a cop are you?"
Ten bucks? Damn that is cheap. No. I gotta keep my moral instinct about me. Ten dollars for a blow job. That is too cheap. My morals are million dollar commodities. Ten bucks. Really? eh. No! Damn smite you! You loose lady of babylon. You fiery dragon of gummy pleasures. Begone! Holy smokes, she has brought friends. They must work for the government. Yes! A government a conspiracy funded by the J Edgar. Hoover trying to silence my voice of dissent trying to take away my website. He is the worse dresser.
Good thing I brought my floaties and a ten bag of blow.
Posted by Monkeyspit at January 2, 2006 9:32 PM