Here’s a stray thought. Being strapped down tight with your mouth taped up probably wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t want to krump, spit, or shake ‘dem dreads so much. Or maybe that’s just me.
I tend to think laterally a lot nowadays. Maybe I should stop admiring the coral reefers and come up to the surface to breathe. This blinking cursor is getting on my nurvesss.
Here’s another stray thought. I must be at a thought kennel. ZING. Anyways, I also have the recent urge to fight someone. It’s a pretty strong urge. But not to worry, I haven’t gone all Juggernaut (bless his helmet he got in 4th grade) on anybody’s ass. Well, in a nutshell, I have the urge to start a club where you fight. A fight club. And I’ll start it one night out in a street where I’ll have a heated argument with myself and then start beating the crap out of myself.
It’s a great idea. In fact, it’d make a great cult movie.
So there, some muffled mumbles from under the gag around my mouf.
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