Forget about gay people, God Hates Dave. That should be the sign those backwards, protesting fuckers should hold. Yesterday, my parents sand-bagged me with another, "David, can you help us with the porch furniture?" Don't get me wrong, I love my mom and dad and I do like to help out. But I need at least a 12-hour WARNING for this porch furniture chore that I have been doing for years. I really had other things to do yesterday, but "Shit," I says to myself, "I'll do it." Meanwhile, when I agreed it was simply overcast. I didn't realize that I'd be moving furniture down two flights of stairs, across the yard, and up onto the porch in the middle of a God-Damned hurricane that rivaled the one that tried to take Lieutenant Dan out!! And even though it was RAINING, the mere fact that it said "August" on the calendar means I still got burnt!! Fuck you, Sun!! Fuck you sideways!!!
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