I had pamphlets printed up for when someone asks what’s wrong with me.
The ex wife once told me her greatest fantasy was kneeling in front of me while I spurted all over her. She never mentioned it was my blood.
Pushed too hard against my eardrum with a Q-tip and reset my brain.
Never threaten anyone. It spoils the surprise.
On the off chance I’m captured by cannibals, I’ve got a ‘Best if eaten by 1975’ tattoo on my neck.
Go ahead, post and claim my tweets as your own. Maybe later, if you like, I’ll come satisfy your woman and you can take credit for that too.