The Picture Is An Exaggeration, Trust Me
500ml+ of rum imbibed…check!
Coherence…largely absent, error!
Alert, or something!
Like the crazy computer talk above, this blog has gone downhill over the past year, if that is possible. This is mainly because I have moved to the suburbs, and has nothing to do with my disinterest in “blogging” with any kind of coherent mind. Let me explain, and then likely ramble, because I’m only 40% coherent. But, I assure you, that should be plenty, just ignore what you know about percentages. Also let me assure you that I am lying about that percentage.
In the suburbs, your house is 7 feet away from your neighbor’s house on either side. Your back porch has a “lake view” obstructed by your asshole neighbor’s trees on one side, and the back porch of a house occupied by renters who don’t do shit but blast Latino techno (yes there is such a thing, as I have found out), play beer pong, and try to hit on girls that are dumber than your pets, and not necessarily much hotter. If you are attracted to animals, I mean. And if you are attracted to animals, always use peanut butter; it’s the safest way to get action. But I digress.
On top of that, you have no real front yard except some trees and some grass for general pain in the ass maintenance purposes. Making the front look nice makes people believe the inside and the rear are nice; like when fat girls have pretty faces. The face has potential for at least a good blowjob, but when the clothes start coming off…well, y’know. You keep going, and just don’t tell anybody. But with houses that’s not a good idea.
Let me say at this here juncture, this is the last I have to say about houses, house maintenance, landscaping, and hopefully, fat girls. No offense, fat girls. I’ve been there (meaning on a waterbed with you after too many – and the memories are interesting), and yes it is true that you will do absolutely anything, which is endearing to both my cock and my memories. But, oh look, it’s late and I need to get home to my undisclosed location. Yes, I’ll call you, promise!
