Merry Christmas you fuckers. God i hate this time of year. Its boring, the streets are full of drunk people, men feel obliged to wear stupid ties and women seem to go out of their way to get raped at Christmas parties. You know what I'm sayin'? Its all total fucking bullshit. I am embarrassed at how much money i have spent already. And the shit that i have picked up think "oh this might be good for..." and then i catch myself and instead move to the sharp items section and think about stabbing myself in the chest.
I am fairly certain this all comes down to needing to get laid. Its itty-bitty shorts and titties as far as the eye can see (about 2 meters) and they all want in my shop. For fucks sake, i am thinking of going to a brothel on the way to work, just so i don't have that super horny sexual predator look in my eyes. You know the look I'm talking about. My lurker look. It goes well with a hat pulled down low and some general fumbling around the groin area.
I have been having some of the most explicit dreams that I've ever had. Some ass, some ass, my kingdom for a piece of ass.
Oh Jesus, come save me now you retarded home-birth. Where are your skills now, other than giving fat girls a name to yell out during sex, what else can you do? Can you save me from my crippling depression? Why don't you get back to me on that one. I'll wait.
I am a thrashing snarling beast that worries about disturbing the neighbors. I am angry and sad and elated all at the same time. Putting a blouse back on the rack i am enveloped in a woman's perfume and go from baleful to broken. I am so proud of my face and its ability to lie. Hopefully it told you pretty things, because i can't.
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