Does Death Become Us All ?

This past week brought about some disturbing revelations and reminds me that we are all mortal. Some fears were assuaged and some new ones crept up along with some lingering questions.

The riding has been going well for the trike man. I run through more tubes than an urologist giving free vasectomies in West Virginia. I keep patching them but then I hit some glass or someone will bean my melon with a full beer and the glass and brew will filtch down my shorts til it runs out my leg hole. I don't want to die of fatness nor diabetes. So I will keep riding. I used to have bad dreams about becoming Michael Jackson's love sponge and having him weedle his scarred, bleached gherkin into my port hole. Of course I had been immobilzed with chocolate and some large latex ball grabbers. When I screamed, his monkey pal Bubbles would come along and wack me with his monkey wiener which emitted an odd smeliing gooey liquid. When I'd awake after these dreams I would have to down a dozen or so doughnuts to get the monkey jizz taste out of my mouth....alas, MJ and Bubbles have both gone to wierdo heaven (where undoubtedly Liberace and Bozo the Clown are waiting to ass rape him and the monkey). So, I am now safe.

I learned also the top 5 ways I do not want to die. Listed in order of least preferable:

1. anal cancer
2. anal cancer
3. anal cancer
4. anal cancer
5. anal cancer

The high mark of my high school spanktometer, Farrah Fawcett, bit the dust. Too bad for her. Her disease was so horrifically vile that even the news media hated typing the words. Every article had the name of the disease once and only once. After that it became her condition or her disease.....for fucks sake!!!!! ANAL CANCER???? What does that mean, at the end tour ass looks like a Gibbon's swollen and protruding like you just got fucked by the Charles Manson of the Banana Tribe? No wonder Ryan O'Neal looked so bloated and putrid. He apparently got fucked by the same bloke. What causes anal cancer? Did Lee Majors ride the Hershey Highway at Mach 1? Absent industrial bearings, getting ass-fucked by the Six Million Dollar Man could cancerificate anyone (exclusive of Elton John whose ass hole is so stretched out that he can park vehicles in his lower colon).

Lastly Billy Mays died. Word has his wife paying for his funeral in three easy installments of $19.99.

Off to Trike...later pussies

Today the Fatman weighs 309............