Wednesday, January 13, 2016

46

I wouldn't call it a recovery but things were looking good, what with my new job as Chief Kitten Inspector Manperson being proclaimed as the #1 college graduate goal in the universe. After I had pulled 3 women from a sewer and ordered them washed in the sea, I retired with full benefits and my choice of biscuit or coleslaw at Kentucky Fried Motorolas.

I moved into an apartment across from Fuck 'n' Hell's Hardware with a full array of video games, coloring books, and a kitten who thinks it's wonderful to walk on my face at  in the goddamn morning every morning hoping I'll wake up without another conspiracy theory bellowing from my bowels about how 7-11 was an outside job and you can't take that away from me.

There's nothing good to eat on TV anyways.

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