Inhale. Exhale. Reverend Hale. Oak (one last breath) A -- let's begin! Ha! I fooled you! (You mad.) How so? Oh, I said I'd be leaving you at once. But I didn't. I'm right here. Okay? Stop tearing all over my new guayabera. I'm not your therry.
I often trash contemporary music in posts. But today, reluctantly, I'll express my admiration of a few recent hits. Flo Rida (I still don't get it!) comrade Ke$ha's "TiK ToK" is pretty sweet. The lyrics are pretty shallow, and her voice may eventually squeak us to shreds, but I truly believe our songstress is on to something. Remember this? Yeah, daz whuh ah mee.
Drake cemented himself into hip-hop's sidewalk with the starfest "Forever." Unfortunately, his verse is the weakest of the joint. Lil Wayne continues to validate tracks -- the metaphor whore scores from half court in the song. Props to Chris Brown's new one, too -- "I Can Transform Ya" is damn good. So, um, back to being an eternally-critical asshole!
What's the deal with ringto -- Oh, hi Jen. How are you doing? I like boobies and I'm fat and worthless. Jennifer, delete that! Please, Missy, get off my keyboard! Stop! So, hmmm, what have you written so far? Woah, do I see an endorsement for something connected with abusive boyfriend Chris Brown? Oh yes I do. My name's Nick and I'm a pointless square faggot. Jen, I'm sorry I had to use physical violence, but I couldn't have you take control of my . . . you know what, Nick? Fuck you! Fuck off! Fuck you! Okay, guys, he's tied up. Don't ask me how. Don't ask me how. So he squeezed my arm and expected me to leave? What a fucking dick. Let's make this the most atrocious post ever.
I masturbate to animal orgies. My favorite musician is Justin Bieber. Fuck. You. Jen. Yeah, your ropes weren't tied too tightly. Cun -- ya know what: I won't say it. I'm better than that. I have a vast array of dildos in my basement. My writing isn't even close to that of the beautiful Stephenie Meyer's. I have a blow-up doll which I use to -- oh, shit . . . I think I tranquilized her. I knew these antipsychotics would find use. Jen . . . Jen! Eh -- she'll wake up soon enough.
It's such a wonderful Monday! The sun is shining, the rabbits are furry, the air is delicious . . . and Jen is unconscious, spread across my floor. Sorry, readers. Have to cut our scantily-clad post short. This was partly my fault. Wait -- no it wasn't! She barged in and seized my keyboard. Either way, I'm a nice guy, and I don't wanna be arrested. Young girl, obviously pretty dim -- I can tell the doctors that she grabbed the medicine and thought it was a bottle of vitamins! Since she's a health nut (see also: anorexia) she downed the container of what she thought was zinc. I am simply the greatest. So, in haste, I leave you unfurnished, unfulfilled, unkempt readers with nothing more than.
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