The poo that I’ve had stuck in my butt drops, and let me tell you, it took a lot out of me. Sliced my hole to tatters is what it did. My babe is lying on the floor. She looks like a laundry pile, another piece of clothing, another dirty load, which reminds me, it would be good to rub one out before we go running. One, two, three, four: this is what we’re living for. I’ve got a Chunk, I’ve got a wife, I’ve got a baby, and a whole family on the way. One thing I don’t have though is a whole lot of time. I swear it would be better if the television didn’t leave me such a dead, unseen ghost, but what can you do? Guys gotta fish, they gotta hunt, they’ve gotta grapple with their hairline long before the point where it starts breaking, and she’s okay with me picking boogers, but not nostril hair.

Everybody stop what you’re doing when the panties are revealed says the voice in your head telling you to smack a cheek, take one for the team, and do anything possible to push yourself past the malaise that you’ve been living in.

You’ve got to keep yourself on your toes. There’s no saying what’s going to pop into your head next, but it’s my job to say it. That’s why it’s important to have a method as fast as thought. The keyboard is the only thing that’s come close. I can do swipe but it’s like trudging through quicksand.

My demons are your demons parading through another gay day. I’ve got my television turned off to let music take me further through my thoughts. The mail man is gay and so is Jake. When I told Jake that both he and the mailman are insufferable, he reminded me of this. Jake finds the mailman even more insufferable than I do. And I was only kidding; but Jake, you know, there’s an ounce of truth to every joke, and we don’t always get along. Truth be told, bro, it’s tough being around you.


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