PERSONALIZED PET PHOTO PILLOW

This personalized pet photo bullshit is pissing me off beyond all reason. ENOUGH.
This has inspired me to write my next piece for Retarded Beyond Redemption, my latest collaboration with the Aries who dicks me down on a regular basis.

For some reason known only by God the above photo brings this song to mind. I guess it's actually a pretty obvious association. Unless you're retarded beyond redemption. But if you want to be a millionaire by Halloween you should be listening to this. BYE.

 

RETARD DOGGO

Nothing disgusts me more than retard hyper consumerism. Hey, if you want to spend thousands of dollars on some kind of special retard pet and name him Buck or Tiger or Taylor or Aladdin, knock yourself out. But DO YOU REALLY NEED a ceramic replica of your goddamn special angel? Rhetorical question. To each her own lollipop. I'm over here judging and mocking your choices.

 

BEST BOOK EVER PUBLISHED

It's subjective, of course, and I'm biased, but the best book ever published is not THE KING JAMES BIBLE or The Grapes of Wrath or The Great Gatsby or Sweet Valley High #1: DOUBLE LOVE. No ma'am. No sir. The best book ever published is RETARD PENIS. Here is an excerpt:

I was sitting in a booth at the McDonald’s on Fredericksburg Road slurping melted ice cream when Debbie began bombarding me with text messages. I didn’t have time for her bullshit so I turned off my piece of shit Samsung Galaxy and soaked in the bliss of the moment, slurping melted vanilla ice cream looking out the window at the Tower of The Americas hazy in the distance. Sometimes I love living in this city. I donated plasma three days ago so I can afford this treat.

Debbie writes poems about me, says she’s in love, but I just enjoy fucking her on occasion with my basic American five inch cock. I don’t delude myself. The best I can hope for is a mediocre sex life with a bat shit crazy poet covered in ugly tattoos and the occasional McDonald’s or Dairy Queen or Sonic treat. I work as a cashier at the Five Below on the upper level of Wonderland. I’ve never taken an IQ test but I’m probably a few points above retarded. Not severely retarded. Functioning retarded, like most Texan Americans.

(title of the piece is DUMPING DEBBIE)