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studies of widows have shown that they always hold their deceased spouse in equal or even higher regard than the mate they replace them with.
After the show, I take a poop into a zip-lock and put it in the fridge next to a used jar of mayonnaise and Mimi, the next-door neighbor’s dead Chihuahua.
Two days later, Debra would die after spraying herself with hydrofluoric acid that had somehow made its way into her perfume bottle. Sad.
then cut up the dead kid in my basement and vacuum seal the pieces and store them in the freezer down there.
After all that, I go to take a shower, taking the cat and the corn on the cob with me.
Unfortunately, Wendy died that night, along with all five of her children and three other residents, when her apartment building burned down.
have trouble getting to sleep, so I stick my finger in my butt and count to fifty.
Texas Department of State Health Services shut down the coffee shop because large volumes of June bugs were being ground up with the coffee beans. It was good coffee.
I recognize the barista as a young woman whose miniature schnauzer I killed last year.
I cornered it behind some bushes and removed all four of its legs with a pair of garden loppers. It was alive when I left but the newspaper reported the next day that it had died.
tell her about my grandfather dying in the nursing home from hypoglycemia. I don’t tell her about the large vial of insulin I have in my medicine cabinet.
That night, to celebrate a successful date with Sara, I smear my own feces across my naked body then violate the officer’s corpse with her nightstick while I watch a documentary on extreme body modification.
Sara smashes my balls with a hammer. She saws off my toes. She sticks needles in my eyeballs. Of course, she whips me and paddles
She pulls out my teeth with pliers and runs screws up my nose and cuts my penis off and shoves it up my butt and uses a giant dildo to shove it up further.
