But as unimportant as television has become to me in the past year or so, I have to admit that my inability to partake in mah favo obsession, American Idol has gotten me a tad blue what wiff the new season starting last month. But luckyducky para me, Mr. Pasteeeeeeelnick a) has cable; and b) lets me crash @ his place on Wednesdays so I don't have to commute all the way back to da Dirrty Jerzeeee since I have to werk in Brooklyn on Thursdays anyway.
So last week, when we had our weekly get together, I
After crying for three horaz, I plopped outta the bathroom and had David read the directionz to me. First I put the magic brownie
cocaine powder into a bowl and I cracked some dead pre-baby chickerz into it.
I then got confused and ate all the batter like a fat lardazz. After David was done beating me, we repeated all the aforementioned steps and put the shit in the horno before I could inhale it all a second time.
To ensure that I stay thin and emaciated, I puked all the decadent treatz back up into the toilet. Calories lead to getting fat which leads to me never being happy ever. A boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do! And what I gotta do is binge eat and vom. Huzzah!
So who wantz to cook wiff me nexxxt time?!