The Holder of Fucking Yourself
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In any city. In any country.
... You know what, you can go fuck yourself. How does that sound? You can just take your hand, and you can go fuck yourself. I wouldn't recommend it, because you would then have lustuous thoughts and that would fuck up your life.
I mean, seriously, there's a reason why people tell you not to do that crap. For one thing, you could hurt your wang, and if your wang is hurting then it's going to hurt really bad because that part's really fucking sensitive. You might be unable to have babies if you're so willing to have babies, which case: a-heh, look at you, the guy who wants to have babies. Ah, doesn't that make you so fucking special? "He wants to have babies, we should value him more than a person who doesn't want to have babies!". Ah, you...
baby... wanting... person...
...
Anyway, in any city, in any country, you can do whatever the fuck you want for all I care. I mean, you can do to Denny's and you could steal the food, or you could pay for it and not tip the waiter, but that would be a real dick move... you'd be a fucking asshole and bring shame and embarrassment to your family and bring shame and embarrassment to me even though I wouldn't even know that you were there and you did it, because I don't know who you are. I can't see you. I can only record this, and by the time I fucking upload it, you know, I'm not going to be talking or I'll be somewhere else talking about something else, about... I don't know, maybe pogs, or ALF, or whiffle ball, or who the fuck even knows what I'll be fucking doing. Maybe some meme.
You know what, I could use fucking jumpcuts. Would you like that? I could cut your jump, is what I could do. Just don't cut your junk, which is what you might end up doing if you fuck yourself.
But you know what, if you do that, then go into the nearest bathroom and stare into the mirror, say 'Beetlejuice' three times, and Bloody Mary and all that, and spina round, and next thing you know you can turn around, and a giant anchovy with hands and knees and legs will have a Mobie Gillis DVD/VHS tape, and you can stick it up your butt which instead of nerves and veins and shit like that has cables and coax cables all of that stuff and your eyes are like a VCR, and through your eyes you can see the shocking footage of what happened the night you were conceived.
If you don't lose your mind yet, then you can leave the bathroom, then you can go to the nearest 7-11. Whatever you do, when you go to 7-11, make sure that you bring a pen with you. Go to the energy drink aisle, and write on the glass... like, not on the actual cans themselves (I don't know why the fuck you would do that, because I clearly told you to write on the glass and not the cans themselves)... write on the glass: 'PEN15'.
And then reverse the glass. Just rip the fucking door right off the fucking thing, and right off the fucking hinge (that's the word I'm looking for), and just turn it around and it's going to say 'PENIS', and then just run out the store giggling. And while you're at it, get me some pork rinds.
Okay, so once you're doing that, try to open a manhole. Odds are it's going to be fixed and you can't open it, so don't hurt yourself. I actually care about you. Maybe your mom or dad or your brother or sister or cousin doesn't care about you, but this guy on the Internet who's fucking talking right now cares about you. Isn't that special?
So, you know what... don't open the fucking manhole. And you know what? Don't even play in traffic. What the hell's wrong with you? You could get hurt doing that shit. Don't do that, alright? I care about you. I love you.
So, instead of doing that... here's what you do: go for a walk. Just go for a walk. Breathe in, breathe out, like Gavin Rossdale and that Bush song. And go into the woods, and then go for a nice walk around the lake, perhaps for a friend if you have any... and just, like, I don't know, just shoot the breeze, man. Just shoot the shit, and just...
You know what, enjoy this life, because as far as we know, we only get one, but since you just did some insight meditation maybe you don't believe that. How about that, hm?
So even if it might feel sometimes like you don't have a life, you do, and it's precious, and it's very, very special.
So once you're doing walking along the lake and all that stuff, go into CVS and buy some laxatives and when you get home, put the laxatives in a blender, throw in the Dobie Gillis VHS tape or whatever I said it was, and just, like, crush it into a beautiful, beautiful constituency or consistency (that's the right word), and pour in some vinegar and some grape juice, and ferment it yourself. You know what, actually, stomp on it with you feet and not with the blender on because... euuuuughh... that's fucking gross.
Ew! Sorry about that. So, then drink the shit and then go: "Man. Life's pretty good." So, once you're done doing that, you're now, officially... that blender's Object number...
I'm not good at numbers. It's a number of some sort anyway, but did you know that some cultures don't have a concept of infinity?
Anyway, it's number something. You're the holder of fucking yourself, and... you know what, that's okay.
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Credited to DaveTheUseless
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