Stop The Insanity

I occasionally do a Google image search to add some depth to my mindless twaddle. Today, as I purchased gasoline for my cute little Honda Civic I was wholly unprepared for the gas station to penetrate me anally to retreive the $31 I owed them for a tank of regular unleaded gas. Although I never saw the sneaky little bastards, I am sure as my bowl-legged walk that someone fucked me in the ass today.

During my search for Stop The Insanity I was reminded of Susan Powter and her revoluationary weight loss program. Don't eat shit and do exercise. Fucking amazing concept. I also learned something that I bet no one ever expected during Susan's total lack of hair hayday. She's a lesbian. Who 'da thunk? (I say in my best college-educated English)

I also found a picture of this cute little mushroom in my Stop The Insanity spree. I learned that my Bastardly Evil Bad Crazy Man Next Door is asking $449,876 for his 2 bedroom, 2 bath 1240 square foot condo. It features a one car garage which will fit one car and a small bag of chips, no more. The backyard consists of a spacious patio with a wood deck, with a capacity for 10 or 12 people to socialize together without becoming sardines. That is, if they are all standing an the area is not cluttered by things such as chairs or kegs.

You might ask why I chose a mushroom to represent Bastardly Evil Bad Crazy Man Next Door. My relationship with him has taken on several qualities of a bad mushroom experience. These include: Happiness, Nausea, Hopelessness, Hallucinations and Vomiting. The hallucinations were actually real in this case, I did see the aforementioned neighbor in a bathing suit. A large 80+ year-old man overly tanned in a bathing suit. I thought and prayed that I was imagining it, however when I realized I was seeing my neighbor almost naked I vomited. Where does the happiness come in? The few times Bastard Neighbor was pleasant to my Chicken. Not quite the euphoria of mushrooms, but shit this is the best analogy I can come up with, okay? I liked the damn picture and I'm tired. Deal with it.

What is the moral of this story, dear readers? Shit is expensive here. I think it's time for a change. Oh, and the Susan Powter book? You can purchase it used on Amazon.com for as little as a penny. That's gotta hurt. A penny. Ouch.