Whether or not this story is true (it isn’t), he sent this video, so happy Columbus Day everyone:
“Columbus Day reminds us that there’s no such thing as being lost, so long as when you get anywhere you act like you meant it and then kill everyone. This is a song my friend wrote about Columbus Day right before he died of Feline AIDS. His brother made this video of pictures of him before his death from Feline AIDS to commemorate his prior Feline AIDS-free life. Please to enjoy.”
Here’s the video:
It’s been a rough day. Despite how awesome it sounds to wake up next to a pile of wood and a baby bed, it actually got my day off on kind of a bad foot. Who’d have guessed it? He sent this much earlier:
“I took this girl on a date last night. She was one of those amazing girls who doesn’t think she’s a hooker but probably says stuff to her friends like “I won’t sleep with a guy unless he takes me to dinner first.” Dinner = Money = Woops you’re a whore. Anyfarts, we sit down at a fairly nice restaurant (Gayley’s on Weiner Street) and she started complaining about the menu because she’s allergic to all sorts of stuff. Peanuts. Shellfish. Other shit. I tried to tell her that only stuck up white people are allergic to food, that no one in Rwanda is lactose intolerant, but she wasn’t hearing it. So I skipped out on the bill, called the restaurant and had them deliver a message to her that the guy she was just with is “allergic to checks.” Boom!
PS where are you I need to know about the wig results!!!????”
I’ll call him when I get my voice back.