By Todd!!! The Deity sits on a throne atop a cloud. “Silence!” he bellows. All goes silent, except one drunk girl who screams “Wooo!” (She is from New Jersey.) God clears hi…
The gal down the hall insists on walking her mutt at the same time I walk my precious Sparkles. This, despite knowing full-well that her vermin despises my sweet angel pup—a contempt that once erupted into a fierce skirmish in the elevator.
The elevator door was already sliding shut when she and her demonseed barged in.
In seconds, our pets locked onto each others throats between us while we trembled in opposite corners. Then it’s ding! The doors part, and out they go in a huff, as if to suggest that my sweet Sparkles was the instigator. AS IF!!!
This guy’s a genius.
My love, I will draw figure eights
with my fingertips around your
whisper words from my heart
to your soul,
And tomorrow, my love,
When you wake in my arms,
You will no longer
doubt that thing
you’ve been feeling
my boner pressing into your butt cheek.
Dude, you’re my number-one homie. I’ma shoot you straight because no one else has the balls to. (Plus, I’m drunk from all that Jim Beam you just guzzled.)
Todd, bro, you need to give up this whole (does finger-quotes)
“I’m so cool, I’m so ironic”
Trust me, dude, your writing blows. Why should anyone read your words? What’s so special about your words? Bro, you like stoner movies and reality television – what makes you think you’re a writer?
—Wait, is that a tear I see? Don’t cry homie. You know I love you man!
/end Todd’s hopes and dreams.