PSR #10: The Date …


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Land of the free …

“Land of the free … home of the brave … I’d like to move there sometime …” – Dr. Freckles

What if I told you …

  1. there are bugs that live in your ears, they will burrow into your brain and drive you insane
  2. there is a crab in the Pacific, that has mutated from the Fukushima, and now it does stand-up in VEGAS … that fucking crab … Penn & Teller want him …
  3. the ancient Mayans used onions to increase the size and girth of their male sexual organs
  4. aliens are currently building snuff flick condos on the moon, antifa recruits for their slave prey freaks
  5. when bitcoin is worth a million? – a million won’t buy you shit
  6. that humans aren’t meant to live like animals awaiting slaughter
  7. there is a God in Heaven, and there is a wrathful justice

Impossible and irrational …

“The Lord in Heaven makes things that are impossible, I make things that are irrational.” – Dr. Freckles

Give me liberty …

Didn’t Thomas Paine say …

“Give me LIBERTY or give me a VACCINATION!”

LOST … (and the DMV)

“The show LOST is about going to the DMV.” – Dr. Freckles

Cartoonists …

“All great cartoonists are racists.” – Dr. Freckles

We ended up here …

“How did I end up on this planet? – I lost a bet.” – Dr. Freckles

“No matter what, we all leave something behind … deal with it.” – Dr. Freckles

3 weeks ago, I thought I was dead.

(what happens when a scuba diver comes up too fast from the deep?)

Kind people …

“Kind people in this world are an oasis.” – Dr. Freckles

The JAB …

The Date …

She was hogan-ho clan … she covered her body in vodka musk. She wore nothing but old ratty underwear, some cowboy boots, a wool cap … and a chenille chemise … it was black … it matched her cold dead eyes …

I picked her up at Nate’s Hockey Shoppe, not far from Old Glimbly’s … on the main street in Hogton, UTAH. We were going to go see the “submarine races” … we would drive up to Viggin’s Peak, and drink box wine, and snort bad meth, and cover each other in soiled old lover.

“You smell like curses …”, Melba moaned, as she kissed my ROCKY BALBOA tattoo … I squeezed her cheeks, and planted a big wet one on her pouting lips. After a few minutes of wrestling behind the radio, the windows fogged up, heavy. I could smell her woman juice, it was raw.

“YOU HEAR THAT!”, Melba screamed … she was getting ready to unzip my jeans and pull out my man snake. “Baby, there ain’t nothing …”, and there wasn’t … screw all BIG FOOT … and the creeps of SLC … it was my time to rumble with a woman in a truck. It was my rubber road.

Some odd thing was banging on pans, out in the woods. Lights, funny green lights, started moving all about, THEN BANG, fire shooting towards the sky. Melba opened the truck’s passenger door and ran screaming into the forest, a strange looking owl swooped down and took her away.

Melba was gone … that was done. Melba was being fed to young owls, and this is sad … but you have to move on when you lose a lover. That strange fire was moving closer, and my eyes were red and jaundiced. I drank some whiskey, and tried to drive away from that devil’s walnut.

As I drove away, I could see the red eyes in my rear view window. I say the flames, and the demon, and the red eyes, and the green glowing trolls moving about … burning my truck’s bumper … so close. I could smell rotting flesh and cotton candy and old stale carnival popcorn.

I am still chased, like on that date with poor Melba. I know there are women, all around the world, waiting for the scythe and the shovel … but I can’t find swamp women, and I don’t have money for Dallas women, and I won’t spend any more time dating dark sector 8 monkey women.

And this is why dating sucks … the end.