complementing thrice just won’t suffice
it’s not as nice as vincent price
whose noise of voice ran
short of torte and south of port
Lay my thoughts where I lie, but don’t let me die. I’ll just gyre and gimble in the wabe. Don me my boots, I’m much to flay’d
to do it myself
mind you, the fuck-up-boots
i’ll need them soon
I used to hate pickles. Not the kind of XFL hating either; rather it was an authentic loathing. Everything about pickles, ranging from the crunch to the seeds to the smell to the greenish yellow ooze that it leaves behind  equivalent to when slugs attempt to escape salt, riled me up in a flaccid sort of way. However, over the past few months, I have been getting more and more accustomed to our dill friends. It all started when I chose to sustain the pickle presence on my Chicka-Filla one day. The slightly offsetting pickle taste really complemented the bonafide chicken texture and greasiness beyond anticipation. Now, my afternoon delight feels quite naked sans pickle. I think I just really need the pickle for satisfaction when it comes to physical pleasure,. I mean, you guys have seen the Tonya Harding sex tape, am I correct?
Alright, here I am again after a couple nonsense posts that involved too many topics and too many beers, but I’d like to talk to you about a serious affair: pets. Seriously, what the hell? You know how sometimes you finally look at a word sans its definition and common connotations, it finally is just noise that people have attached a meaning to? Well, that’s kind of like how I have come to feel about pets.
Don’t think of the word pets, just think about what they basically are. Animals. Pets are animals. Animals are cool. I like eating animals. I am not a member of PETA, my basic goal is to point out how silly we are about animals. Other animals.
We take animals and lock them in our homes. They are our pets. We feed them. They are animals. Isn’t that a bit strange? I have no problem with keeping animals as pets, and no problem with when people eat them (delicious). I do think it is rather odd that we take an otherwise seperate animal and lock them in our homes.
It’s a bit curious, we take a lizard (let’s say an iguana), and lock it in a neat little cage attempting to recreate what its used to. He surely won’t be doing much in his 16 oz world. I have no feelings for him, I just wonder what drives us to hide said lizard in a cage in our homes. Its odd at the very least.
Just think about it for a second. Outside of the box, per say. Our pets. Our dogs and cats and fish. What in thef hell are they doing in here?
Dogs that do shit for us, more understandable. Dogs that shit for us, less understandable.
By the way, I would say I am about 9 drinks in.