“Dear God, it’s me Jimmy. Wasn’t the polio enough? Amen, asshole.”
“Dear God, it’s me Jimmy. Wasn’t the polio enough? Amen, asshole.”
“But Harold, I have absolutely nothing to wear!”
“How about you just put on that green dress and drape some dead animal over your shoulders.”
“Yes! And a hat!”
“It ain’t right— all these queers on TV. Back in my Pappy’s Pappy’s day, men were men, and wom… well Howell and Atticus used to fuck like drunk monkeys in heat out in that tent, but men were men. Anyway, that show ‘Glee’ shouldn’t be on the TV at this hour.”
By the Summer of 1864, Mr. Puppykins had mastered “sit,” “stay,” “lay down,” and even “roll over.” Come November, he would learn his most advanced trick of all: “burn Georgia to the ground.”
“Actually, I suppose it was more of a night terror.”
“Say Michael, do you want to hear my secret?”
“No.”
“There’s a dead girl in it.”
“I said ‘No,’ Jimmy.”
“And there’s sex too.”
“Jimmy, you’re making me uncomfortable.”
“Oh come on now, Mikey, you got to want to know the order of those events, right?”
“You fucked a dead girl Jimmy.”
“I fucked a dead girl Michael!”
When you live everyday like it’s your last, you have to make sure your bitches and kids are constantly dressed for your funeral.
“Now, leave the turkey and mayo sandwiches here in the sun to stay warm, put the kids in a cave, and let’s go have that orgy in the rip tide. Even my mustache is getting horny.”
White people parades.
Sweet Willie Little (0-17)
“And now Billy, it’s time for the blessing of the back of the head. Come closer. Closer. Closer. Now on your knees. Oh what the hell, we both know what’s going on here, just suck my dick out of a combination of misguided trust, fear of eternal damnation, and lack of parental supervision. God bless.”