Whiner

There is nothing more to life than whining that someone wrote a blog about you, and it hurt your feelings like a hooker that was shorted on a payment. That kind of stuff cracks me up. If you want to squeal, whine, or cry, take your goofy ass out in the country where there is nothing around and light it up, and whatever you do, don't let a comic KNOW we are getting to you.
So, to level out the playing field, since your just a bullfighter trying to be something, until someone rains on your parade. I am going to make a match out of the offer, and give the bull a sword. Let's see how you fair in the sword fights. Well, you may have it down, I mean, you are in love with a stripper and all. Just cause you run around with disco lights on your "other" car, don't mean we all have to stop and pay attention to the needy.
All I can say is, don't whine, don't sit next to the penis cake licking your lips all night, and lastly, don't be a part time cop who can't even carry real bullets, you have to tote around them rubber bullets in Indian Nation. What's wrong with this picture? Nothing on my level, you came you saw you spoke out loud. I ate it, and you are butt hurt, not as butt hurt as your woman when she unzips her pussy and lets her dick hang out. But you are tracking.
Never ever in life let a comic know they are getting to you. If you remember that, you will make it far, just go with the flow, laugh, have a good time. But if you spent your whole life being the butt of the joke, I wonder what it is that draws us into you. Not really that kind of into, but your like sitting around someone with no tongue trying to listen to a story. Peace out officer Laurel Nebraska. We love you, we love to pick fun at you, and let the games begin there Hightower. If only your father wrapped ole willy not to be silly, then I would have to find another.