I woke up this morning and I had a big fucking headache! You know why I had a big fucking headache, because I got fucked up last night thats why!
So you know what I did when I got up this morning? I got fucked up again! You wanna know why? Because I hate the taste of fresh-squeezed orange juice, I hate the smell of fresh-ground coffee, I hate the sound of Bryant Gumball's voice! I hate driving to work, I hate standing up, I hate breathing, I hate waiting to die!
Why should I go to work anyway? So some ASSHOLE who has nothing better to do can get off by telling me what to do, so that maybe, JUST MAYBE, I can take home a check for a hundred and forty-eight dollars and twenty-seven cents after they take fucking taxes out so that a bunch of lying, cheating, POLI-FUCKING-TICIANS can get their free limos and their free haircuts and their free postage stamps and their free blow jobs???
BLOW...ME.
Blow me. Blow me, George W. Bush. Blow me, Laura Bush. Blow me, Dick Cheney.
Why should I have a fucking job? So maybe I can get some fringe benefits? So maybe I can get some health insurance, so that if anything really goes wrong with me, I can call up the insurance company: "I'm sorry sir, your coverage doesn't cover stomach cancer, I'm sorry sir, your coverage doesn't cover massive brain tumors, I'm sorry sir, your coverage doesn't cover secret incurable CIA-sponsored diseases." Blow me. Blow...me.
Yeah, I have a death fantasy. This is my death fantasy: driving dowm the highway doing about ninety miles an hour, and I have a head-on collision with a bus filled with those singing nuns from the movie Sister Act. But just before i hit, I wanna be shooting up heroin between my toes, and jerking off to a copy of Hustler magazine and listening to Howard Stern on the radio. So when I'm in the fireball burning up I'll be laughing and coming at the same time. At least I won't be bored, at least I won't be bored with all the stimulation.
"Oh I wonder what's on TV tonight? Maybe SOMETHING GOOD is on!"
"Did you see the latest issue of VANITY FAIR? Did you see what it said about WOODY FUCKING ALLEN? Did you see what it said about DEMI FUCKING MOORE? It was so FUCKING INTERESTING!"
"Don't my triceps look great, I've been working out."
"I just waxed my car! I just waxed my skis. I just waxed my legs. I just waxed my brain."
"I LOVE MOVIES WITH EMMA THOMPSON. THEY'RE SO...MOVING."
"OH, I'M GOING TO GET AN EARRING AND PUT IT IN MY NOSE!"
"OH, I'M GONNA GET A BASEBALL HAT AND TURN IT AROUND BACKWARDS."
"OH, I'M GONNA GET A TATTOO!"
I'm gonna get a tattoo. I'm gonna tattoo my eyelids. It's gonna say "BLOW ME," so that everybody knows how i feel about 'em.
OH I'M SO WORRIED ABOUT THE RECESSION!
OH I'M SO WORRIED ABOUT THE STARVING AFRICAN CHILDREN!
OH I'M SO WORRIED ABOUT THE PLAYOFFS!
OH I'M SO WORRIED ABOUT LYME DISEASE!
OH I'M SO WORRIED ABOUT THAT STAIN ON THE RUG!
OH, THANK GOD I'M NOT POOR!
OH, THANK GOD I'M NOT BLIND!
OH, THANK GOD I DON'T HAVE AIDS!
THANK GOD I'M NOT A FAGGOT!
THANK GOD I'M NOT A NIGGER!
Blow me. Blow me. Blow me.
I'm gonna find the biggest ugliest pig, all covered with mud, and I'm gonna take that pig and lift up its curly tail and I'm gonna grease up its asshole with vaseline. And them I'm gonna get a huge hard-on and shove it in. And while that pig is squealing with joy, I'm gonna be smoking crack in a giant crack pipe while Sally Field stands behind me in a leather bondage outfit with a strap-on dildo, fucks me in the ass while she bangs me over the head with a giant wooden mallet.
It would be a lot more interesting than driving my car in the 55 m.p.h. zone. A lot more interesting than grinding my amaretto-flavored coffee beans. A lot more interesting than setting my alarm clock to 6:15 am. A lot more interesting than reading Time magazine's analysis of Ronald Reagan's colon polyps. A lot more interesting listening to Michael Bolton sing songs of LOVE.
You know what I'm descended from? Animals! Animals are put on this earth to do four things: eat, sleep, fuck and bite each other. That's it. That is what I'm genetically designed to do. All the rest is extra. All the rest is some shit little dogs made up to get in my way.
I was going down the highway the other day, minding my own business and a state trooper pulls me over. He comes up to the car and he says, "Son, do you realize how fast you were going?" I said, "Why don't you tell me- while you BLOW ME!"
I went down to the unemployment office and there's this lady sitting behind the counter, she's eating from this giant bag of potato chips, she's got a can of chip dip on her desk, she's dipping the chips in the chip dip. She's eating while she's talking to me. She goes, "You're not fit for employment." I said, "YOU'RE NOT FIT TO BLOW ME!"
I'm standing in line for two hours to see this movie they should pay me to see, and this security guard in a uniform with a nightstick comes by and goes, "Get in line" "Get in line" "Get in line." I said, "GET IN LINE TO BLOW ME."
This guy comes up to me and he says: "Have you heard the good news, God loves you." I said, "Look, I met God, and he's a five foot tall Chinese transvestite with AIDS and he told me to tell you to BLOW ME!"
I'm going through a change of lifestyle, I'm going to change my lifestyle.
I'm going to stop bathing, stop brushing my teeth, stop wiping my ass. I'm going to smell so bad people are going to smell me before they see me. They're gonna run away when they smell me coming.
I'm going to overeat. I'm going to eat ten Sara Lee cakes every day, all covered with whipped cream and melted butter. Four or five a day. I'm going to get so fat that when fat people see me, I'm gonna cheer them up.
I'm going to be a junkie, take every drug: crack, Prozac, Advil, children's Tylenol. I'm gonna be so bad, strung-out junkies are gonna see me and go: "There but for the grace of God go I."
I'm gonna hang out in shopping malls and become a serial killer. Have a freezer in my basement full of bodies. I'm going to bring them up piece by piece, put them in the microwave, cook them up and eat them while I watch taped re-runs of CHEERS!
I want you to shave my hair off, peel my skin off, wrap me up in rusty razor wire and whip my feet so that maybe I can feel something real for just two or three seconds. So that maybe, just maybe, I can CLEAR MY HEAD OF ALL THE NOISE!
*pounds head on floor*