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Another fine collaboration by Brandon the Mighty and Joemanji
I have found that if you stare long enough into the grizzly innards of a backwards Replicant's Dark Chocolate Cheerio, you can often determine the exact time that they last beheld the Dazzlingly Brilliant Hyper-Spectral image of Fay Wray's upside down tractor spackle, which comes in real handy when you're trying to gesticulate the meaning behind the baffling disappearance of Jesus's long lost brother; fat sequined Jumpsuit Elvis! Long Live The KING!
Of course you must always be prepared to give up some of your Firestone Poached-Egg Flavored Jelly Beans if you stumble across a Drebulo-Zaxxon Hambone-Vorehole, because if that little pandimensional fucker is hungry and you don't give up some o' dem gourmet J-Bizzles, homie, that bewilderingly enigmatic anomaly of physics (that also just happens to be a total lazy-ass job-dodging panhandler) will drop yer drawers and suck all of the shit-filled squishy-bits right out of your fudgy peanut-parade route, and that sort of abuse just leaves a man all hollow inside... Did someone mention a RepliCANT? Why the hell can't we have a RepliCAN around here?!! Y'all a whiny bunch of miserable RepliCUNTS!!! Yeah, I said it and I meant it.. Go ahead and be all butthurt if you feel the need. I don't give a catshit hackysack, because I'm
gonna go to my igloo and give my spare Reptilicus a nice soothing coat of Merwin's Organic Gorilla Snot, but FIRST, I gotta go drop a fresh hashbrown.. Do ya get me? It means I gotta take a shit, son.. god, you're dense.
That being said, I still feel as if I hadn't really fully come to terms with the gut-wrenching tragic loss of my brightly bejeweled, sugar-encrusted putty knife that had been bequeefed to me by the late Great Ghost of Liberace's Sisters Uncle's Third Cousin (twice removed on his mother's side) Thank Crom, I still have a couple of silver-inlaid hydro-colliding inverse-spleen gravy-boats, hidden deep within the dark sweltering malodorous crack of my own personal Comanche sperm-gobblers off-kilter half-spackled turd-holster. Indeed, I'm most definitely in dire need of reshaping the left side of that big bastard's unholy jelly-smelter anyway. Cuz you can never be too certain that you have got enough Swedish Yak-Butter smeared around the rim of your diamond-shaped rough-beveled sewer-grate.|
At about this point in time, I was getting dangerously near the raggedy end of my VERY limited patience, so when I looked wearily over at the Bladder-Wrapping Dept across the hall and saw that worthless shit-for-brains intern, Chadwick Vagisil, once again just loafing about, utilizing his thumb to idly plum the depths of his bum, that was exactly the moment my bullshit quota had been surpassed and my temper flared up like a blazing bad case of habenero hemmorhoids. Shaking with barely contained fury, I took a deep breath then thunderously bellowed with an unholy rage like that of a constipated kaiju trying to pass a city bus without the assistance of his XXL Squatty-Potty.
“CHAD!” I howled, “You listless self-sodomizing neutered-emo penile-drip! Extract that stank-stained nub you call a thumb out of your shit-lined cock-garage and get this goddamn retarded Lycanthropic Yodavulva Megashrew of yours off my desk before it decides to piss on yet another of my vintage industrial contraceptive spermicidal sponges, or I swear I'm gonna slap the sniveling emo-snot out of you with my Enchanted Cimmerian Damascus-Steel Omelet-Pan, and you KNOW I'm not hogshittin' you, ya lemon-scented menstruating girly-boy!!! and with that I felt my bloodpressure drop like a toilet seat. Speaking of toilet seats, I gotta shit again.
