Post by logan on Feb 13, 2009 13:33:17 GMT -5
Friday Afternoon. Foggy. The air was thicker than a horses penis. Desperate Housewives was on.
Admit it, you've consider masturbation if you were ever forced to the view the show while in company of a black hearted ex girlfriend. Call me immature. Uncivil. Whatever helps you feel normal and sleep at night. Throw a little credit my way, these are facts, I come bearing truth and nothing else. Feel warm and fuzzy inside now? Of course you do, that's the responsive homosexual urge flaring your lips upwards to the mention of horse penis. Can't really claim your gay to fame by being attracted to an animals penis. No, that makes you something more utterly disturbed than men who seek men. That makes you.. Brad Kane.
Brad Kane makes me think of other things, like Megan Kane. A woman, who I thought was deeply in love with me broke my heart earlier this morning. She confessed that we only made love so she could dig deeper behind enemy lies. Study me, figure out what makes me tick. She found the obvious truth.. ketchup. That stuff makes me crazy. Not bounce off padded cells crazy, the kind've crazy that makes one compare afternoon fog to animal penis. What in God's green earth had that woman done to me? I think I know. When I woke up this morning, before cuddling Megan, I noticed an empty red stained medicine bag lying on the bedroom floor next to our throne that the magic previously happened on. Yes, I refer to my bed as a throne. Not in the kingdom sense that Jimmy Dean might live by, nonetheless, it's my habitat. The empty bag reminded me of hospital IV bags that hover over patients in pain. The gist of this though, the IV bag was empty, whatever did once fill the bag was nowhere to be seen. That's when I put two and two together. That evil being injected me with ketchup when I was in deep sleep from hours of hard penetration. My reaction? I'm having a blood transfusion A.S.A.P.
Admit it, you've consider masturbation if you were ever forced to the view the show while in company of a black hearted ex girlfriend. Call me immature. Uncivil. Whatever helps you feel normal and sleep at night. Throw a little credit my way, these are facts, I come bearing truth and nothing else. Feel warm and fuzzy inside now? Of course you do, that's the responsive homosexual urge flaring your lips upwards to the mention of horse penis. Can't really claim your gay to fame by being attracted to an animals penis. No, that makes you something more utterly disturbed than men who seek men. That makes you.. Brad Kane.
Brad Kane makes me think of other things, like Megan Kane. A woman, who I thought was deeply in love with me broke my heart earlier this morning. She confessed that we only made love so she could dig deeper behind enemy lies. Study me, figure out what makes me tick. She found the obvious truth.. ketchup. That stuff makes me crazy. Not bounce off padded cells crazy, the kind've crazy that makes one compare afternoon fog to animal penis. What in God's green earth had that woman done to me? I think I know. When I woke up this morning, before cuddling Megan, I noticed an empty red stained medicine bag lying on the bedroom floor next to our throne that the magic previously happened on. Yes, I refer to my bed as a throne. Not in the kingdom sense that Jimmy Dean might live by, nonetheless, it's my habitat. The empty bag reminded me of hospital IV bags that hover over patients in pain. The gist of this though, the IV bag was empty, whatever did once fill the bag was nowhere to be seen. That's when I put two and two together. That evil being injected me with ketchup when I was in deep sleep from hours of hard penetration. My reaction? I'm having a blood transfusion A.S.A.P.
