'sex and news,' he said, 'sex and news. thats all anyones interested in anyway, and thats all anyones a fan of. sex and news, and fornication and ideas.'
'fornication and the news, sex and ideas. dig?'
he lifted his head up off the rock and then promptly dropped it again. he wasnt in the mood for lifting his head.
'sex,' he cried, 'news,' his body shaking, great big bushy tailed tears pouring out of his shaking shoulders.
'no,' he said, 'i refuse to believe it.' but his tears told another story. his tears told that he believed it. and in his heart he knew that it was true.
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you are a sick mother fucker. i hate you and i hate your father. if you ever write anything as shitty as this again, ever, anywhere, and from any computer that is hooked up to the internet i will fuck you in the eyeball and tear your pupils.
relax buddy, geez. it was just a story, eh? and at the end of the day, i really think its true(my shoulders are starting to tear up again). we all eat bananananans.
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