‘Been a long time, how’s it hangin’?
So I pretty much had the most disturbing dream I have evar had, and therefore have forsaken shit like dreaming.
Aw, man…I mean this fucker is really hard to tell, even in this vein, (keep in mind, the “long-distance booty call”, arrives in 24hrs, and I promised ribeyes and king crab, but I still haven’t bought any furniture in the new house and shit, so I gotta borrow a card-table and some folding chairs and shit…), just harvested 3 of my 5 pot plants, so the place REEEKS, work is off the wall busy, and I think I will be writing a four-figure tax check this week…so stress is outta here, but it don’t account for this shit:
So I gotta make this elevator or I will be late for work. I’m running and in my hand is my penis. Yup, I just cut the fucker off and it is in my hand, but I’m fully dressed and running with my cock in my hand.
And then I bite the fucker and start chewing. Running and chewing. Like a yuppie throwing down a Powerbar trying to make the subway.
So I’m eating my own dick, and it’s like a room-temperature rubbery Oscar Meyer, and I’m kinda dissapointed, 'cuz I don’t really like f’in hotdogs, and the fucker don’t have a bun or ketchup, and I look at my hand and low-and-behold-and-shit, the fucking hotdog is bloody.
So I’m still running and feeling a naseuses,(whatever) and pissed because I’m eating my dick and the fucker ain’t even cooked.
Then I start thinking about why I cut my cock off, and there was an answer something like “a crab loses a claw and regrows another”, but then I start thinking my dick has nothing to do with crabclaws. And I feel a wave of terrible anxiety and fear.