Thursday, September 22, 2005

Amy, will you go out with me?

So I found this note on my windshield after work today -

"HI,
I AM INTERESTED IN BUYING YOUR CAR. CONTACT DENNIS AT XXX-XXXX"

Yes, he did leave what I imagine is his real phone number and he did write the note in all caps like an assclown. Now the funny thing here is that my car is a piece of shit. No one should want to buy my car. The company went out of business because no one wanted to buy their cars, why would anyone want to buy a used one? Fucking ridiculous bullshit. Made my fucking day.

I went to lunch with an old high school friend today. Yes, I am that old. Anyway, we were going to have sex in the back of my car, but she's kinda tall and we wouldn't have fit. My car is small. And then she had to go home to her boyfriend. Timing is always my problem. Too bad I don't have a van like Jeff. Damn.

Speaking of Jeff, congratulations are in order. He just slept with his ex-girlfriends hot mother. It seems he's the fantastic motherfucker now.

That seems to be all the news I have for now. On to bigger and better things...

***

"So you drank with the lost souls for too many years..."
- Flogging Molly, Whistles the Wind

2 comments:

The Fresh Prince said...

Okay Nigger. So I'm commenting on your page, like you've repeatedly requested. And I started with a bold racial slur, because that is my style. I personally would prefer to read entries like this one: some interesting tales from your day are more entertaining than self-pity, comments about how you're destined for a greatness that no one (including yourself) understands, or quoting people no one has ever heard of. But hey, that's just me. I like to hear about tall girls getting fucked in small cars. Maybe you should poll the other 0.4 people that read this blog (I assume there is a lonely dwarf who takes comfort in your writings) and see what people want to read about. Keep up the good "work" entertaining me.

Billy Prophet said...

That was not the thought provoking comment I was looking for. First of all, fuck you for not liking what I write. Ass. I do what I want. Second, I can't always write about fucking tall bitches in my fucking clown car, the next one might be short and we could fit (snugly, as it should be). So either take your poorly written snipes elsewhere or contribute to this page with the quality my loyal fans have come to expect. Doucheweasel.