Day 247: All Crinkled And Cut With Smiths

Awakening from my untorturously insane sleeping arrangement, I did notice something weird and so down left to the wrong side. I sat up in all the horror in no attempt to decipher the event at hand. Slowly it moved and I wobbled. So did it. What could be so disastrously devilish like the pickled gherkins that spoke to the worms? Nothing. That’s right, this moment was no worse than a midget eating rice on the bus with a square dancing pixie making the ungawdly decision to pee up the pipe, between the midgets toes. Nope, It could only be described as something from a comedy that made no sense and was more than nothing like gravy slopping from that disgusting orifice you house that poor like tongue in. What the hell did it ever do to you? I said it with my eyes and a lumpy lollypop-man said no. Drool had escaped my face and dribbled down the cheek to a position worth noting. It was there in the middle like a puddle on the roof.

Scissors Clip The Burnt Side Pin.