Have you ever wanted to get someone’s Autograph who isn’t famous, but it’s the thrill of the chase that drives you to insanity…… here is a story for all the children out there on what not to do…for an autograph that’s at most worth 4 Rubles in Russia!!!!
Remember not to write it when your wasted on hash and popping pills with a bottle of scotch……or else it will get shredded from the F.B.I in a matter of seconds
I am writing you because not only am I a fucking alcoholic who’s more nocturnal than a rabid bat who just took a hit of acid… but also I’m a fan…not quite a stalker like David Hasselhoff masturbating to Pam Andersons tits sitting in his rocking chair in a high security prison…with the only thing blaring in the background is a duet featuring Clay Aiken and William Hung singing chipmunk songs from 1937…
but someone who saw your show at comedy works when Dave Attell was here sipping more vodka than Joseph Stalin whipping turkish immigrants with a belt buckle ..and then taking a bath with Hitler in a nazi concentration camp….best friends for life…
you even signed my shirt…which I still have hanging up in neon lights right over my glass case with the “fragile” paper mache penis of Carrot Top..I received on E-Bay for 32 cents..and only 700 pesos for shipping…what a hell of a deal…..
even though I was more plastered than Paula Abdul during the American Idol auditions…I still needed to get your autograph man…because your cool.. so I trampled the security whore behind the steel curtain and I punched Dave Attell right in the esophagus…
then this gigantic black motherfucker came running out of the back room carrying a machete ready to slice and dice me like a fucking horror flick ..I dodged him and shattered a bottle of o’douls over his head ..he went flying into a glass wall of homeade bong pipes..then I reached you with a black crayon in your hand..ready to sign like a fucking 2 year old who just got smacked like a bitch across the room ..because you took a dump on the carpet in front of the church pastor..singing koom- bye- ya- my- lord…. with a megaphone….
all I’m trying to tell you..is … I get more bored than some of these porn stars who have limp dicks…. so I have to write like Stephen King on crack… turning out stories every time I wipe my ass …….
…I’m not like the government who rapes you on every april 15th…and takes more money from you than a hooker on sunset blvd….after your hangover the next 17 days later..you search through your panty drawer looking for your wallet..the only thing that’s there is 1 fucking dime…realizing that the 50 dollar blowjob turned into a six hundred dollar mindfuck..
all because the 28 gallons of petron you drank took you completly out of fucking reality and into a god damn coma.
So as I write to you from this fucking psychotic mental ward…. I believe that The Moral of the story is don’t arm wrestle a lion because he is probably hungry and needs to be fed first!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!