Posted 2:12 PM by Alfred

Cold coffee. It licks my ass. But it has caffeine, so it is my friend. do they still have jolt cola? I would like one right now.

Not a coke. Fuck coke. Fuck pepsi too. And fuck diet dr. pepper.

I have however found a diet soda that satisfies the palate to an almost satisfactory degree. It is called diet vanilla pepsi. Clock it. I’m not going to link it cuz they can suck my donkey’s schlonger anyway, despite their talents with mixing phenylketalene rat poison with syrupy vanilla goodness. Long beach.

Long beach dammit! Fuckn eh yeah. Long beach might replace the jurk storr.

I didn’t mean it, jurk storr, nothing could replace you. NOTHING. Not even at the last days during the last battle when they have my throat pressed up against the gas furnace, burning my stubble infested skin, will I ever renounce you, I will cry out your name “jurk storr” while they impale my gullet on a rusty pipe and then tell me to “let off some steam, Bennett” even though my name’s not Bennett. It’s from an Arnold movie. Check the files. Not these files, the, um, movie files.

This guy writes really cool movie reviews and ranks them with donuts. It makes me happy. So happy that I think I now have to go take a gigantic shit. gracias.

I was joking about the bowel movement. I thought it just sounded poetic. But now I realize that I am just an idiot.

I have to make a phone call. To someone I hate. Except I don’t hate him. I just hate the fact that I have to stop writing this brilliant pile of horse crap for five minutes and actually do something productive. You understand. Even if you don’t, just nod your head and the disturbing man will go an about his business. Mahalo.

Well I made the phone call. Voice mail. Asshole. Actually I was glad. Fuck him. ok now I’m gonna like organize some shit. don’t go anywhere. But like, wait like five minutes before reading the next paragraph if you want to feel like that true timeline shit, ya know, the way the author intended. What the fuck ever.

Ok I just sent an e-mail. I am officially contributing to the gross domestic product. Whoop dee fucking dee for me. Jurk storr goat fucker associaton, dues paid in full, beyatch. mas werkie ahora.

Sometimes you just gotta love phone tag, it’s like, the perfect excuse to shelve a particular thing you’re working on for another day. oh, but wait, she just called me back, and it was quite an easy dillio to deal with. I’m glad it was resolved. Now I can handle this bizness like a mackadocious playalistic rebellious causeless goatless bastard with an acute acne problem.

Long beach, with just a Mrs. Dash tad of jurk storr thrown in for good measure. Aloha.

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