all game, no plot; talk it down, walk it off

Sorry for barely managing to blog once per week. I know you count on me as a diversion from your sad lives and in that regard I’ve let you down, but the fact of the matter is that I just can’t be bothered with your narcissism right now. I just don’t care, haven’t ever but especially now with what happened to the Billy Mays and all.

Tragedy always brings out the poet in me, so here:

Hey you! Billy Mays!
I’ve got your Awesome Auger
right here in my pants.

Your black hair and beard
were just a tad too shiny
for a man your age.

Turns out, Orange Clean is
not a product for me to
wash my red pubes with.

And with that, I’m off to stream a little softcore porn steamy romance through my Xbox via the Netflix. Buh-bye.