Fucking Etsy. If you don’t know what Etsy is, I’ll tell you. It’s a place where hippies sell their handmade shit for a fortune. Even with this failing economy, Charles Manson sells his pubic art and Pee Wee Herman sells his cum stained pocket socks for thousands of dollars. That’s Etsy. Anyway, I figure I can sell my seeds right? Not organic seeds either, my seeds are on steroids, hormones, vodka, and Red Bull, because I want one hell of a monster crop. I disclosed why my shit is the best in town on my sale page which totally backfired on me. Every bean eating, tit sucking buyer/seller emailed me about how I’m destroying the earth..bla bla bla. So I did a bulk response “How am I destroying the earth asslickers?” Essentially they all responded “cuz yer contaminating our soil and your seeds aren’t natural man”. That was the final straw. I bulk emailed the Etsy hippies telling them all that if they had a problem with me or my seeds, I would be more than happy to come over to their teepee in my giant ozone eating, global heat wave making, road kill producing, pickup truck and run them and their hippie wanna be offspring over. That would put them out of their misery. More importantly put them out of mine. Speaking of…. Does anyone know how to get blood out from under the wheel well, and fingers out from in between the tire tread?

Every fucking year my sons school forces him to make me a gift for Christmas. First off, the boy has never been able to cut out a circle, color inside the lines, or glue a cotton ball onto a piece of paper… on purpose anyway. He’s failed art class five years in a row. So you would think after all these years the fucking teachers would know the lack of creative talent my son employs. Last year he stuck already chewed cinnamon flavored gum to a piece of construction paper and called it “air freshener”. My car smelled like cinnamon ass for a month. For Mothers Day he wrapped up a couple of paper clips and called them “ear rings”. I had to be treated for tetanus after wearing them for a week. Year after year it’s the same thing..”mom they made me give you this shit” and I’m always like “oh for fuck sakes son just throw it in the burn pile”. Then he cries and bitches about how hard he worked on whatever piece of shit he gave me. Anyway, for almost a week I saw a crinkled mess of a gift under the tree for me. My boy taught the dog fetch with it. He also used it as a door stop a couple of times, so I knew this year wasn’t going to be any god damned different then prior ones. I was right. It was probably the best he’s ever done though. He’s becoming a regular prickasso. He made me what he called a “sand castle making kit”. It should come in handy the next time I pass out on some ones beach and need something to do before the cops pick me up for trespassing. Again. I think this year he really tried so I’m proud of him.

I am sick. Not hungover sick either. I got the fucking flu. I don’t know if it’s bird flu, mad cow flu, swine flu, or some other barnyard animal flu, but I got it. My body aches like a port-o-potty fell onto me which explains why I feel like shit. My nostrils feel like someone shoved pizza crust up them. Now I have to breath through my mouth and the only time I breath from my mouth is when I am passed out from huffing glue or something similar. So now I’m getting all this oxygen which my body is not used to. I find that to much oxygen interferes with the natural course of inebriation. However after all my “abuse” of Nyquil, in order to get any relief from the flu symptoms, I have to drink three more bottles than I usually would. I found that even that isn’t quite enough to let me get a good nights sleep.