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Saturday, January 27, 2007

Smootch my Snootch!

I've decided that title is gunna signify my FOAD episodes in life, those moments or people that don't really deserve a death directive but pretty close to it.

Was tossing up the title, FUAD, until I read the classic "Smootch my Snootch" from the bloody funny thing writing Whiplash Smile and thought AHA! now that's what I'll use....she doeth make soapeths toeth.

And yes I don't really want them to smootch my snootch as in, put their lubra lips to my labian one's.

Now that I have laid full claim to this version of the title, the acknowledgements have been made I will continue on to the first person who can just Smootch my Snootch.

Hey You! the retarded [I will hide him as] SC and yer FC of a she-bitch, thee who has had a right good whack to the face with the ugly and skanky stick, them the fucked-up, retarded neighbours one street over.

I spit on these people. And I would pee on them too! using borrowed urine from a cat or dog...after they have "milked" it for me with their mouths first.

I was outside in the dead of night the other evening, enjoying the cooling breeze, sucking on a fag pleasantly watching the nightscape, picking out the "pot" and our Southern Cross in the stars. When the FC started screeching and shrieking, intruding on my serenity now moment.

Why can they smootch my snootch, exactly?

Because she was so fucked up on the grog. I couldn't understand one bloody word of what she screeched. I mean if ye are gunna decide to be the weekly entertainment [and also available sometimes for weekend performances] at least do it so I can freaking hear and therefore know what's going on.

Pair of snatchfaces.

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Posted by apositivepessimist :: 12:45 am :: 19 comments

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