Thursday, October 19, 2006

tickle your ass for a quarter

I think it's sad when people look down on other people.  Like there was this guy who drank himself to death and everyone was all, "tsk, tsk. That's a real bad shame."

You know, if some old bastard was out fly fishing and he had a heart attack or slipped on a slippery rock and bashed in his fragile skull everyone would say, "Well, old Paul went out doing what he loved best, killing fish."  Then they'd eat the finger snacks at the funeral, the white toast snacks and punch.

But the poor drunk bastards, they only get looked down upon.  I feel that anyone who has such a passion that they do it until dead should be appreciated at least as well as the fish killers and the ones who perish riding the velvet fire-truck into eternity.

Plus, I wish I could astral project.  

Do you know how many boobs I'd see?  Well, probably yours at a minimum if I knew where you lived and could astral project better.

It's hard to astral when you're drunk, though.  Too easy to fall asleep right when you should be projecting.