Thursday, July 22, 2004

UPON HIS BACK REST BURDENS

Hey fucker. How ya doing? Yeah, that's cool. I'm just chilling with my homeboy Deke over here. Hey, you want to know something? As soon as they take you out of that tub I'm going to eat you. You're going to be fucking delicious.  I'm already getting a chubb just thinking about it.  What's that? Dude, I fucking know you have a shell. Like der. That's pretty obvious, isn't it? What? Oh, I've been thinking about that, and see, here's the thing: I'm a dog, which means I'm stupid but I'm not as dumb as Deke over here, who's already fucking distracted - DEKE! - anyway, my idea is to just pick you up in my mouth, take you outside, and throw you against a wall or something by snapping my neck and just letting you fly.  I figure if it doesn't work the first time, I can just try it again until your shell cracks open and I eat your sweet meat for an afternoon snack.  I mean, it's not like you're going to run away or something, now is it!!  Oh, bro, come on, dude, no crying.  Seriously, that's not cool.  You're trying that whole pity thing but it's not going to work on me, and I'll tell you why: I'm a bad muthafucka.  Usually the only thing I eat is pussy but you look so goddamned good I'm going to make an exception.  See, that should make you feel proud.  You've entered the eschelon of top-notch pussy, bro, because that's the only kind of pussy I eat.  Damn, now see, if I knew you were going to be such a crying little bitch I wouldn't have told you I was going to eat you.  So just shut up.  Seriously, shut the fuck up.  Whu?  Whu?  Whu you gonna do now, huh?

Swear to GAWD, Deke, fucking turtles, you know?




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