fds

some days we just want to die.

An ode to my friends

God damn it, I could really use a chainheal right about now. Jude Law peered down into the gaping abyss before him; the fresh, agave-green excrement odiferously steamed its way from the limestone to his nasal. Describing the violated veins of her prolapsed anus as varicose would be an understatement. Clean-up: the worst part of date-rape. He squeezed the mothballs out of her rectum as if squeezing beans from an edamame. The sound of feces-covered mothballs falling to the tiles was more euphonic to him than any etude he had ever heard. Why settle for a handjob when you can have a mothjob? As he continued to squeeze the mothballs out of her anus he couldn’t help but liken the shape of a ball-filled rectum to that of a caterpie’s body.

      What a dismal life I lead, thought Sakura. She looked down at her fingertips as she continued to write her Jude Law fan-fiction, sighing in loneliness that her dreamed multiverse was not her reality. No, her reality was that of a trailer park, a Naruto-inspired nickname, 56k, and a never-ending stench of Marlboros emanating from her juggalo parents’ “room.” The caterwaul her mother would let out on a nightly basis from methamphetamine withdrawals drove Sakura to seek mental sanctuary in her fan-fiction. Her joyless eyes wandered to her Jude Law poster and gazed for a few moments before she uttered an expletive, cursing the threads of fate for keeping her from her soulmate. Sakura’s puckering lips extended to Mr. Law’s abdomen as she closed her eyes and imagined another reality, if only for a moment. He was her seraphim – her angel. A veritable rainbow of sugar sprinkles caught her gaze and her hand swiftly grabbed the last donut. Her mouth salivated with anticipation but her mind seethed with hatred; if Jude was her angel, frosting was her white devil worthy of a jihad. Alas, her outward obesity was a reflection of her inward will, or lack thereof. In her heart of hearts she knew the only time she’d weigh less than the futon she slept on would be in Zero-G. Yet her cellulite-dripping fingers continued their descriptions of Jude, for much like the boundless universe, her love too was eternal.