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retrieve a zip-lock baggy from a drawer and place the snotty tissue inside it and seal it up and place it next to my wallet and house keys in the bedroom.
Whattt
I don’t have a car, however. Well, I do—Mother’s old 1999 Buick—but I’m not allowed to drive it. My license was suspended after an unfortunate incident involving a raccoon, a bottle of castor oil, and a road trip down to Galveston.
WHAT
So, during the fifteen-minute breaks at work, I do standing hip thrusts to work my glutes and core.
Oh no bud
I have masturbated to Miss Danbury three times, though. Once while I was at work.
Oh
can just as easily derive sexual pleasure from mayonnaise jars or crawdad holes.
WHAT
And have.
WHAT?!?!
I don’t think it’s one I’ve masturbated into before. But it’s hard to keep track.
AHHHHHHHHH
When the patties are done cooking, I put the burger together. In between the patties I apply the yellowish-green snot from the zip-locked tissue in my pocket. I spread it out over the cheese, the heat of the patties making it more liquefied and less globby, making it look like a secret sauce of some kind. With the food prepared, I wrap the burger in paper and dump the fries into a cardboard container. Hector takes it from there.
WHAT THE FUCK
Before heading to bed, I shoot the kid I have chained up in the basement. 76% of women can be convinced that the sound of a gunshot was actually a car backfiring.
Brother what is going on
use the Mimi meat to make these burgers. Chihuahuas make a surprising amount of meat for their size.
WHAT
She’s too old anyway and appears to have arthritis, which can hinder a woman’s ability to jerk off her male counterpart.
Oh
He fails to mention what he caught me doing in the janitor’s closet when I was in the 8th grade and I’m glad for this.
?????
After all that, I go to take a shower, taking the cat and the corn on the cob with me.
WHAT
Unfortunately, Wendy died that night, along with all five of her children and three other residents, when her apartment building burned down. Another artist gone before her time.
BRO
Before going to bed, I send an email to my senator telling him he’ll be assassinated in thirteen days. I have trouble getting to sleep, so I stick my finger in my butt and count to fifty.
WHAT IS GOING ON
