Sunday, January 02, 2011

dearest fhills…

…up yours

now don't cry baby.

it's not all your fault.

but the bastard has to tell you off.

you see,

all I wanted to do after a long drive in the shit was to park and go back home.

but no,

I had to dig a snow bank out of my way.

it's not your fault baby. the bastard is just tired.

shoveling tons of wet snow can do that to a man.

—the bastard

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