uh oh, someone doesn't like you

dammit, this is the only thing I have in red. do you think he'll mind?


As a cat gets older we sometime begin to think of death and living and how we want to be remembered. And I’ve decided that not only do I want to be cremated and have some of my ashes mixed into a douche, seeing how that’s gonna be the only way I’ll ever get near any pussy, but want every chick at my funeral rocking the red dress. That’s right, a low-cut red dress with those come fuck me at midnight heels. Well, except for my mother cause I doubt she’ll be having any of that shit. So remember, if brain dead pull the feeding tube, cremation, and red dresses. Oh, and a little baby oil or some such shit on the breasts wouldn’t hurt you bitches either.

Visualizing my funeral and shit got me to thinking that even though I don’t bandy his name about like we’re all tight and all, god most likely thinks I’m a good person. But I’m so sure that he can’t say the same for some of you muthafucker’s out there. So as a public service here’s a few sure fire indicators that god hates you.

You know god hates you after you decide that it would be a good move to display a big metal cross during the funeral of a friend. As you’re simple ass stands graveside holding your big metal cross, the sky darkens and bam! Lightning hits the big ass metal cross you’re clutching and muthafucker’s have to plan another funeral. Yes, god hates you.

You know god hates you when after a night of hard drinking and being an asshole to everyone around you. Your drunken ass gets home and after a while you feel the strong urge to throw up. As you kneel there praying at the false alter of the porcelain god, your stupid ass passes out and you end up with a severe concussion. When you fall asleep whilst throwing up into the fuckin toilet and crack your head open on the pee-stained rim, yes, god hates you.

You know god hates you when somehow the thought finds soil and germinates in your mind that it would be a fine idea to water the Christmas tree. One thing though that you neglected to remember sunshine. That watering the Christmas tree whilst the muthafuckin lights were still plugged in might be a really bad idea. Yes Susie, there is a Santa Claus, which didn’t do shit for stupid uncle Junior since he forgot that water and electricity don’t mix. Which didn’t matter anyway since god hated him.

And you know that god hates you when you’re the heir to a billion dollar company and you yourself happen to be worth somewhere in the twenty billion dollar range. Life is good and after a hard week of getting city governments to press their power of eminent domain so that you can build more stores where before there were thriving local shops and homes. You decide you need a little R & R and after taking off in your very cool ultra light airplane you crash the muthafucker scant moments later. Yeah, when you’re richer then some nations and heir to the Wal-Mart fortune and die in the crash of your personal plane. Yes god hates you.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"