It has just occurred to me that I am now 4 months and 15 days away from turning 60. Oh, just fuck all of you, don't you know that I can hear you laughing??? Yes. 60. Sixty. Ahem... Old...
So... Who wants to go skydiving? Bungi jumping? Concrete poisoning while skate boarding? How about hang gliding? Swimming with sharks? Perhaps a "family fiendly" cruise. Yes, I really did mean to say fiendly.
No, wait, I take that one back. I am so NOT family fiendly...
I am no longer 59 and a half. I am on the skid marks to 60. 60... FM!!!! For those of you older than me: FUCK YOU!!! For those of you younger than me: FUCK YOU TOO!!! Don't forget I know where all of you live and I am not above breaking in in the middle of the night and doing you in with a boat oar. I'm a devious little bitch and your certain to not be my first victims. Think about it. I've been buggered with a dead body in a basement in the middle of the night. Oh yeah, that was fun. That was when I finally realized that I should be on Broadway. Damn, I'm good... especially in a totally suck ass situation. Who knew...
For some unknown reason my skinny little ass is still walking around the unarmed, the unsuspecting and the unaware. You bitches need to duck and cover!!!
Sixty. I remember fifty. Sort of. Not really. Well, kind of. Not really.... I was dressed up like Sponge Bob Squarepants and I was carrying a pineapple. Trust me, I was lit getting out of the car... Hell of a party as a vaguely remember...
60. OJFMTFT!!! Sixty??? Holy shit!!! Sixty!?! Oh, just FUCK ME AND FEED ME FISH!!! christ, if I was a dog I would have had the good graces to have died when I was eleven. In my sleep... In the basement..
Sixty. Start looking for boat oars now. Trust me, you're going to need them... That's about the only way to eradicate us. We're a tough little bunch of in breds. Southern, don't you know...
SIXTY!!! FMTT!!!
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