We Are Just Numbers, Bitch.

What if one day you find out that Karl Marx is your great granddad? Would it suck? Would you be proud? What if you were the descendant of Adolf Hitler and you're Jewish? These thoughts haunt me.

These things are nothing compared to what I experienced 5 minutes ago. Friend number 1, 2 and 3 were surfing the net through their laptops while I sit there watching TV while scratching my toe. My toe was itchy. Mosquito's byte. It was pleasurable scratching it. Damn. It was finger-fucking good.

Thank the holy God of hell, Friend number 1 let me use his laptop so that I could Facebook. Facebook is actually a curse. I'm addicted to it. Everywhere I go, I just want to superpoke the hell out of someone. I once superpoke this girl, she kicked me out of her friend list. Fucking bitch. I hope she rot in hell. Fucking bitch.

Friend number 2 is listening to Pink Floyd's Atom Heart Mother. He downloaded that song through Ares. I recommend you people not to buy original CDs. Original CDs is just so not 'in' nowadays.

You remember when said that scratching mosquito's byte is finger-fucking good? I change my mind. It sucked. Now it's annoying. Stupid mosquitos. I hope they all rot in hell too. Don't let me start on cockroaches.

Adam Lambert has this fetish where he likes to dress up as a rabbit and ask a homeless guy to fuck him from behind while eating hotdog. Random, right? Right? Get fucked.

There is no gayer name than Kenny. All Kennys are born to be gay. It's not that I'm against gay. I just hate them. Especially Kennys. God, if my wife wanted to name our son Kenny, I would stab her with an icepick. For the love of Tom Cruise, don't name your son Kenny. If your name is Kenny, try and love pussy more.

Goodbye, bitches. I'm gonna sleep and hope I don't die tomorrow. If I do, please apologize to Mom for me. I stole alot of money from. Tell her I'll pay her back when I get out of hell. Or if I'm lucky, I'll just meet her there.

Bye.