No, there's nothing sexual about this post despite me remaining ever sexy in that 'get away from me you creep' kind of way, though, as is my wont, there might be a photo of a scantily-clad lady in good time if I'm not too lazy to use The Google.
"The title is misleading. It's not the evening, dumbass."
Then pretend the bedtime story is a soap opera.
"But your life is boring."
Why must you be so -- so -- cruel?
Am I the only one that hears the cheesy organ? Probably tinnitus from decades of HEAVY FUCKING METAL SATAN BLEAAAAAARRRRRRGGGHHH.
Speaking of instruments with keys, cruelty might be giving this slice of Alkan to some unsuspecting yokel at their first lesson:
Looks as coherent and legible as the shit I pen when I'm drunk. Of course, mine remains waste whereas, in the hands of a master, the above rightfully earns accolades such as 'fucking hell, that's good."
Hussein X is in town today, ostensibly to sell Dr. Obama's Universal Tincture -- my advice: a top hat, twirly moustache, bikini babes and fire-breathing midgets -- but thankfully he's on the east side of Thieveland so the motorcade of sunglassed earpieces won't fuck up this afternoon's Tales From the Wheelie Bus. En plus, a Dum circus is never as entertaining as a wingnut one.
"Maybe Vader's kid will show up, leading a moran of birthers."
A man can dream, brain, a man can dream.
"You promised scantily-clad ladies."
Here's a shot from a recent blood sacrifice. What, you thought I was relying on my charm to achieve
world nation household domination? I tried that, and ended up at the library, which speaks voluminously.