Prom Night is the Bomb Night with a Hood Rat You Can Hold TIght

Yeah, muhfuckas, a Skee-lo reference. Not sure if anyone under the age of 25 would get  it but whatever, no one reads this shit right now anyways.

I think I’m getting that SAD thing that people get during the winter time because I feel fucking miserable of late. Seasonal attitude disorder? Sexy Ass Dames? I’m too lazy to look up what the acronym means exactly but I’m getting convinced that I have it.

Why? The weather and atmosphere is really starting to get to me. I hate cold weather. I hate winter. I hate every aspect of this subzero wasteland I currently have to reside in. Old Man Winter and/or Jack Frost can fellate me and by fellate I mean, I would throat fuck them like they are the stars of some violent gagging video. Seriously.

Gay throat fucking of fictional characters notwithstanding, is there anything redeemable about this godforsaken season? In the past week, both Valentine’s and my birthday occurred, and I was too numb or too something to even notice. I’ve been existing but I definitely haven’t lived in what seems like a really long time.

There was no reason for this post, I’m just saying…

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