Here’s the thing: I have no idea where I’ve been for the past week. I could’ve been drinking tea with the reigning Ayatollah of Iran for all I know. The one thing I do know is that not 10 minutes ago I realized I was sitting in my hot tub with a voluminous amount of spaghetti on my head, and a rather emaciated prostitute was taking care of business in my hand. If you know what I mean.
If you don’t know what I mean, I mean she was pooping in my hand. Lots of poop. I don’t know what led to this incident. I only know that there was an obscene amount of poop. And as previously indicated, it was being placed quite decisively in my hand.
Disgusting? Most assuredly. But never let it be said that I don’t know how to party like a rock star.
Is Obama still president? Look, I have a lot of catching up to do. And if you don’t have rather delicious boobs that you’re willing to press against my face, I place little stock in your input.
Alright, that’s enough for now. I need to figure out what to do with this poop. Until next time — selah.