I'm back, bitches!
No, stop the applause...okay, continue. Alright, seriously, stop. I'll have the wind of you.
I'll just go ahead and get right down to it. "Dear merciful king among peasants, our great and all powerful redeemer, sage, and white knight, why hast thou forsaken us for so long?" you may be, and in fact are, asking me right now on bended knees with your immeasurably vast hindquarters glistening in the glow of your desk lamp. Well, I have a secret. A nasty, dirty, secret.
I'm lazy.
Yes, yes. I'm a lazy fuck. Not nearly as lazy as you lot, not even in the same ballpark. Fuck, not even the same sport. But alas, I do have my moments of lack of motivation. In this case, it lasted just about 3 years.
Well, that's not entirely true. I have actually been busy doing other things - things far more important than telling your porcine, chronically unmotivated lumps of flesh and cheese what to do with your lives and how to do it. And on that subject, let us get started, shall we? Let's get motivated!
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Motivation is a funny thing. Not ha-ha funny, more like an infant in a burn ward funny.Which isn't funny at all.
See what I mean? I wasn't motivated in the slightest to make the opening line of this, my glorious return, funny. Less so because I find the thought of your jelly rolls gyrating with laughter absolutely fuckmothering repulsive, but more because I've had several glasses of bourbon and could give a single hay-penny fuck less about your, or anyone else's amusement. Fuck you.
So you find yourself there, sitting on your latest pilonidal cyst, scarfing down your seventy ninth burrito bowl of the afternoon, and asking yourself "how did it ever get this bad?". I'll tell you. You're not motivated, man!
Luckily for you, I have seen fit to bestow upon you - yes, you - my number one surefire way to get that unimaginably engorged ass up and moving. Pay attention you flea-brained fuck knuckle.
First thing you're gonna want to do is get yourself a steak. That's right, dicktits, a steak. I'm sure you're familiar with those. Them's them brown things what mama used to bring home from the tex-mex, 'cept they was all cut up into strips and inside one of them there mexican flat breads. Except this time, you're gonna wanna go to the grocery store and buy an actual one - they're red.
Now, get on your Hoveround and bring that ass to the woods. Follow me on this.
Put the steak up your ass and do what you do best - be still and wait, letting your eyes glaze over and your drool creep down your geometrically impossible cheeks like they do when you're watching the latest episode of "Shit For Brains Sings Shit" or "Shit For Brains Buys Shit" or whatever the new Fox lineup is.
Soon enough, a meat eating animal will approach you, and if you have a single iota of self preservation left in that alleged body of yours, one of those appendages towards your bottom half - commonly called "legs" - will move very slowly forward, and the other will soon follow. Hey look at that, you're running!
Do this every day for thirty years, and maybe one day you'll wake up and won't have to have a forklift lift you off of your bed! Again, fuck you.
Well, hope the 3 year wait was worth the wait. I'm fairly sure I've inspired you to go out there and be somebody, and if I haven't then you're just not motivated enough. My suggestion? A steak up the ass.
I will now accept your praises and your money. Give me money. No, seriously, pay me. Fuck you think, I'm doing this for free? I'm over here changing your worthless life. You'd be dead without me!
Run your pockets!
Edit: I was told that this post lacks the "refinement" of the posts I made all those years ago. So here's what you're all craving, what you're all salivating at the glans for, that which you came to see in the first place.
Ahem.
You shit-nosed cum-gargling fuckdick of internationally renowned imbecility and fuck headedness, I hope your house burns down on Christmas morning with your entire hob-goblin mongoloid fuck-brained and most assuredly lard and bile encrusted family within it. May your collective burning fat fuel the pyre and send all of your neighbors within a five mile radius to hell with you, so they may jab you all with pitchforks and rape your internal organs for all eternity for having provided them the LIVING HELL of having to live in such close proximity to you, you bunch of dribbledick wastewater cocknibblers.
There. You happy now?
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