The bartender's head traveled haphazardly up & down its furry arms
attempting to rid its self of fleas when the fox stumbled into the
waterhole. The fox 's shadow danced disgracefully cross the dirt
floor as he tried in vain to reach the barstool. Finally he reached
the barstool after making a complete odyssey around the place. The
drunkard swung his arm and jerked on the bartender's fur. The bartender
gave out a low growling sound and asked, not very kindly, what the
hell's your problem. The fox from the floor, he fell (obviously),
replied "I'm happy." A pregnant silence elapsed. "Overjoyed really."
The bartender not really caring, just doing his job asked "why?"
The fox as if enthralled in deep thought hesitated a moment "fox
hunting's been banned in england." The bartender continued to hunt
for fleas through his furry limbs and walked away. The fox on the
floor closed his eyes and was never seen again.
i hate the computer.
it wants me to fucking wipe its ass for it?
i ain't its momma!
Let me tell ya something
Love is not sublime
It is crap
It is the dirt underneath your fingernails
The A bomb went off in the forties, right, well what was left after
that, that was love, fucking concentrated love, the good shit
If you wanna find love sure as hell don't go to some stupid bitch
who aimlessly repeats iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou just to get you to
spread her legs and stuff her good
If you want love go to the gutter go to its peoples they know love
and the lack of it they know the meaninglessness of a word and the
power of an action