Goddamnit, I'd piss on a spark plug if I thought it'd do any good!
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Here's Your Fucking Update, Bitches.


Because assholes like The Filthy Critic email me every goddamn six hours asking, "Why don't you update your fucking site?" I give you this...


He bought a shirt, WHY THE FUCK HAVEN'T YOU?

The Pimp Daddy of Antarctica proudly wears his t-shirt
while freezing his ass off near a bunch of penguins.

There would be another piece of fat art here (from an ex of an ex, of all fucking things) but I can't find the goddamn email. E, if you can, send it again and I'll put it up.

By the way, the reason I'm not updating - I currently have that type of a life in where I'm currently up to my sphincter with crap to do for work, so nothing worth talking abuot happend.

On top of that, Big Bob passed away and I got to redeye across the country with some little whore crushing my knees with her seat (I simply can't cover that shit AGAIN); so I've been spending my free time drinking toast after toast to his memory, being generally surly, and trying to build up extra arm muscle to support wearing the titanic old-school ring he left me.

So Merry. Fucking. Crhistmas.


Slap out

1 Dec 02

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