How the f*ck you doing on this wonderful Sunday morning?
Are you still breathing?
Too damn awesome if you are, and if you aren't, HOW'S THE AFTER LIFE?
Is there lots of fire and brimstone and flying monkeys?
Welcome to Hell, save me a spot by the Lake of Fire.
I hear it's beautiful.
I'm sitting here contemplating my nose hair.
Should I braid it?
Should I...oops...I mean...
When the world hands you lemons, my old boss says you should make lemonade.
What a dumbass.
The world tried to hand you rat poison and call it sugar.
You could have killed off that girl scout troop.
You could have gone to jail and got three square meals a day.
And free butt sex.
You don't want that, you like paying for your butt sex.
I keep trying to move forward with a positive attitude, a big grin on my face, the gun still warm in my hand.
Keep smiling my friends, keep laughing, to the point the nice people with the nifty club jackets come to take you away, to the rubber room, where you can run into the walls and bounce to the floor.
"I'm a screamin' pretty words tryin' to make 'em rhyme "
Every so often, I'll try to do that, scream pretty words, never try to make them rhyme.
Earlier, I decided to take a walk down the road to the store and bought me a soda pop.
A sandwich too.
As I walked down the road, I sang some song swimming around in my head.
If I was smart, I'd bring a recorder with me, as it was actually a good song.
"What's that you're singing?" someone from the bar I passed yells out.
"Only the lord or the devil knows!"
"I've been there son, I've been there!"
And I kept walking.
Singing my song about that lonely country highway, love lost, found, lost again, fucked in the butt with a nineteen inch strapon!
I may be living too close to Kentucky, the bluegrass, is calling to me.
It could also be the TV show I'm watching on PBS right now.
You can beat Roy with a stick, ifn ya want to!
Just keep playing the banjo Roy and don't worry that your wife is screwing everyone in town.
Hell man, she been cheatin' so much my friend, we don't even know if she's the baby's mama!
"WAY DOWN....IN THE HEAVEN'S MANSION...."
Man, I really do wish I had learned to play the banjo.
I took three lessons when I was kid, from an actual man who was at the Crossroad when the Devil came a-calling.
Anyone who is anyone has their Crossroad story.
I have mine.
I was down there, sitting on a milk crate.
It was possibly 1922.
Who the hell knows.
The drugs weren't that good.
And my sweet, sweet woman, she done ran away with my good friend Jackson 'Sweet Water' Brown, who, then, was a no good dirty dog.
I was sad.
The Devil came to me and said, "I'll make you an offer, your soul for the blues, the Georgia kinds...play it from your butt!"
And that's how I became...no wait....sorry...wrong movie.
I think I told the Devil to go to Hell!
And we both laughed.
And it was definitely 1922.
Welp, should have enough time, for one more, so sit back and...say AMEN!