You know that Freud thing wherein you wanna kill your old man and get to banging on you mom?  It goes back a ways, actually, to some pervy Greek.  I forget his name.

          I'm not really into dudes, so my dad is off the list of fuckables, and even though I don't really wanna kill my mother, I do kind of feel, a little bit, like if the lady was a corpse and the idiot was like, chained to a bed post for all eternity, my horse-shit life would become slightly more dog-shitty instead.

         Just saying... drunkenly.

         P. the ever-loving S.  How the hell do you properly spell, "pervy"?

       ……………………..

Why in the name of God's self-righteous holy hell can I not find a bullet inside me capable of preventing me from drinking myself to death?  Maybe I should place one there.