Stuttering Freak Brother Update Finale

Sup, intercunts.

Where to begin. I'm presently out of the habit of internets communication, so forgive and bear with me. I'm not in the mood for trying, so this post will be wank.

As we speak, the aforementioned stuttering freak is in hospital, squandering national health resources on life support. It's a result. I'm currently nursing a black eyeball. I wound him up so much that he punched me, the fucking animal. I called the cops and had him arrested. Next thing, I get a call from my bovine sister, informing me that he took a heart attack and might not recover. Brain damage, apparentment. Ha. You need a brain for that.

I am fucking delighted. True story. I win to the max. Best case scenario, he won't be able to wipe his own arse going forward. I'm praising all sorts of imaginary deities.

I thought you would have tended to the white eye since that was the one that had the evil knocked out of it. I guess you're looking for the quicker path to symmetry.

shaina, what I am saying is that both his eyes steal light from the abyss

shaina, I am saying he has pitch black eyes, and that he is making them white

Kidding aside, regarding anyone using up their life in detriment to everyone around them, they could only offer the kindness of departing.

Sorry to hear about your brother, Chavois.

I wouldn't wish that on anybody.

The initial rush of victory has subsided now. It's all rather fucked. Got the non-committal runaround from the medical professionals. Meanwhile a plethora of soapesque skits are spinning in the ICU waiting rheum. I can't even be arsed with the complexity of his recent misendeavours. Yes, I just made that word up.

I haven't eaten or slept in the past three days, and I'm currently wopped on bourbon and ganja.

What I need now is one of them there mystics jews to wave his broken wand and correct everything.

Damn, Chal. You have fine-tuned your windup skills to a whole new level. You didn't even manage to give Dave a heart attack.

Sorry to hear about your eye.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by megabyteme

Sorry to hear about your eye.

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Thanks, man. It's been difficult. I've missed four photo-shoots already.

He just turned thirty-two. That's not even a mystic number. Unless you count the reverse. His first child was born to a skank of degenerate proportions just a month ago. He'd glimpsed and hold him once, but got restricted by social services. Quite rightly. Now this pathological liar and pyrotechnic infant terrible of histrionic behaviour is kicking up stinks in the ICU sick room, which I cannot abide.

See, I've got a mouth on me. When I decide to say something, the walls kinda end up painted in blood. The blackeyeballable remark came from me impersonating Porky Pig after he threatened me in front of my son. 'That's All Fa-Folks' is still ringing in my ears. Prior that evening, he'd tried to burgle me, of course.

Cunts are reporting to me (to me, in all honesty) that they have found white feathers- indicating visits from angels. Well. Apparently, Facebooks likes count too.

Get your crossbow, we're going angel hunting.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by mjmacky

Get your crossbow, we're going angel hunting.

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Skewer every thing in flight you clap eyeballs on. Any one of them could be an angel.