Christ, what an asshole.
Woke up this morning and it seemed to me,
That every night turns out to be
A little more like Bukowski.
And yeah, I know he’s a pretty good read.
But God who’d want to be?
God who’d want to be such an asshole?
God who’d want to be?
God who’d want to be such an asshole?
I think I fucked up the last line
Who’s bready for a divorce?
“Uh oh, now my family is toast!”
If this was the winner, can you imagine how bad the others were?
Nah mate nothing can compete with this.
Name on the reservation?
Makin his wife challah in bed
going for a roll in the hay
“I’m sorry, Monsieur Toast, the job posting was for an experienced host.”
I don’t get it :(
I regret to inform you, sir, that the wedding is off. On her way to the wedding, your bride fell victim to a murder. A murder of crows, to be precise.
that explains the yeast infection
And, worse, the crumbs in the bed.
Ah yes, your table is bready for you, sir.
This is my favorite thing of today.
