say hi to the sixth Beatle

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Here I am once again dealing with a night of non-sleep due to my FUCKIN insomnia. I feel like crap, I look like crap, which when I think of it isn’t any different from any other day. So I think today is a good day to yank out a new list of those people who have earned the right thru their actions and personal heroics to suck my cock.

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Muthafucker’s with more money then sense can kiss the head of Abdullah the tent maker, especially one who just paid forty-one thousand dollars for a fuckin truffle? And what is a truffle you ask? It’s a fuckin piece of fungus that grows along side of tree roots, and people who eat with their pinky up seem to think it’s a delicacy and shit. Fuck that shit and fuck Emeril who can also make friends with Pennis the Menace.

And if you’re one of those lame driving bitches who can’t figure out how to use the goddamned turn signals, you and all your like ilk can go fill up at the Exxon Valpenis. I hate you muthafucker’s so bad it makes me stiff, and when I get a hard-on for no reason I get worried, then angry.

And since I’m on the subject, if you park in a handicapped parking spot and you’re a relatively healthy piece of shit you can partake of Old Drizzly. And the same goes for you fuckers that use the little temporary handicapped stickers to get over cause you’re lazy bitches can hug up on Mr. Schtuppopolis. It’s always some fat bastard or his equally fat bitch whose only apparent handicap is the inability to back away from the Big Mac.

Oh oh oh, don’t let me forget the cops who walk around these cocksuckers on the way to get their coffee and doughnuts without doing a muthafuckin thing. You boys in blue can lick the squinty blowpop for not doing your jobs and showing these rule breakers’s the business side of your hand.

And if I’m ever in a traffic jam again and I find out it’s because of some asshole on a bicycle who think they have the right to hang in the center lane I’ll run em off the road and yank out King Ohyeah my goddamned self. You’re on a bike you tree huggin fuck, not a goddamned car or otherwise powered vehicle. You cannot sit there at a red light in the stinkin center lane and just pedal casually off when it turns green like you’re fuckin Mary Poppins and shit. No! You can’t fuckin do that. And the next cushy helmet wearin cocksucker on a bike that sneers at me in my car like you’re saving the monkey ass raping world will most likely get my door opened up in your face as I pass.

Also I can’t forget you people who when at the ATM decide that you want to stand there for ten minutes and handle your fuckin international transactions. What the fuck is up with that? Oh-my-god! Go to your fuckin bank for that shit, don’t hold up the fuckin ATM with multiple transactions. If you have to stand there and pull up your balance in checking, then check your balance in savings, then check the balance in your kids savings, you probably don’t have the fucking money anyway and you need to go float a check like the rest of us. For making me wait in a crowded convenience store filled with those happy shiny faced fucks behind the counter who insist on telling me to have a nice day until I start pissing myself and ole Jimbo the bum who’s trying to shake me down for change. You sir, get an up-front and personal met and greet with the dreaded Meat Maelstrom.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"