The fucking hookers promised to send the batmobile to pick us up. Instead, those fucksticks called the Po-Po!
When we heard the sirens coming for us, we Stopped, Dropped and Rolled....
Well, with us it was more like Stopped, Flopped and Groaned.
Suck it, smartasses! We are old and stopping suddenly causes random body parts to flop, jiggle and shake, but not in an attractive way. And? Tits that sag to your knees hit the ground way before the rest of your body and it hurts like a son of a bitch!
Anyway...After hiding out, in what I can only assume was a poison ivy patch, until the coast was clear, we crawled our way toward a blinking bar sign in the distance.
Looks like the perfect place to recoup, recover, and plan our comeback strategy.
OR
Maybe we'll just get drunk.
Whatever! But beware my darling assclown hookers. We are coming for you.
Until Next Time~
xoxo
Holy God, there is not enough gin in the world to make my old body stop hurting. That was a long ole hike. By the way, the sign may be the first totally honest advertisement I have seen. Look down to the left, see that ugly bartender? He is so ugly he would make a train take a dirt road! The beer here makes me want to lick a cat's ass just to get the taste out of my mouth! We need to find a better hideout!
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