Go Ahead and Ask Me How I Know My Wife Ain't Pregnant.

I have no wife. Nor is she preggers. BUT, this was something Suzanne said at lunch yesterday. I ate fucking three cheeseburgers yesterday (throughout it's course.) I'm disgusted and still full. Here's the thing, the way I figure is I can live unhealthy for like 3 more years and then I gotta shape up. Or else. Seriously, or else. I don't wanna wake up one day, AWOL from work for three days, to my friend Pete standing over me, while I'm morbidly obese, in a bath tub, squirting bottles and bottles of ketchup into my mouth, while screaming "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!". Actually, that's a lie. I kinda wanna do that. Just so I can be that guy.

Non-sequitor thought, Would you punch a porpoise if you could? Let's say just once, you could deck one of those adorable fuckers in the snout, would you have the heart? Would you want to be the only one of your friends to punch a friendly aquatic animal? I would ladies and gentlemen. I would.

Further more, I fucking hate Michael Bay. I hate him. But I'd sex up Meghan Fox. Also, fuck The Transformers (the movies, folks, the movies). Dwell on this.