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Tuesday, August 18th, 2009

    Time Event
    7:15p
    Short Fuse
    I have this urge to skewer a halfie in its dumper and "walk" it through the shoe dept. at Macy's. When we then walk outside to the second floor bannister, I'd like to pump a round off and fire it over the rail, down to its splooge-filled bounce below. I don't know why I have this urge, I just do. I've had a lot of peculiar urges as of late. Ever since I've come back to life after a recent emotional breakdown of sorts, I've had these rather flavorful urges grace my deli tray of desires.
    For instance, I was at the grocery store the other day slipping my erect banger into the frozen pizza freezers when an unnatural action developed. While I was waiting for the opaque cover of condensation to form on the glass, this really fat heifer pushed her way through between my sweet ass and some mid-aisle ice cream cone display. As you could imagine, I did not fancy the space invasion one bit. Instead of a natural response such as discus dongin' her fucking melon with a Freschetta, I immediately charged her down and hip checked her wide load right into the biscuit cooler. As she lay there, thrashing her cankles about, I popped a can of biscuits over the edge of the cooler and began spiking unbaked wads of dough at her panty-flossed cooter. You must understand the tragedy within, I love biscuits and some things can't be unseen.
    After the assault passed, I realized that I WANTED to spit wad that BBW's tuna can with lumps of Pilsbury's Flaky Butter Biscuits. Of course, once the desire had been acknowledged and indulged in, I developed this nauseating version of survivor's guilt which crashed over me in waves as I drove home in shame.

    I did fall into a deep depression recently which crescendoed in a spectacularly disgusting nervous breakdown. Perhaps I came out the other side with a fresh perspective on things. Perhaps I had to fall apart so that I could put my pieces back together in the right order. Life sometimes has a funny way of working itself out. Cheers to a fresh perspective. Cheers to my sweet dick.

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