Whoa Baby, it’s like Freakin’ Christmas!
You, know… Except happy… And awesome… And, well nothing like Christmas.
So my mom asks, “are you gonna vote?” “Yes,” I reply. “Good, you’ll be in Santa Rita. You can get that fuckin’ girls’ shit out of my house.”
Driving to Santa Rita I was under the impression that all of my stuff had long since been removed. Boy was I wrong…
Every magazine I’ve ever been published in…
A picture of the tattoo I’m finally gonna get…
My Spider-Man banner…
My Star Wars banner…
And just in time to have the dude sign it… My Smash Mouth CD…
And I was seriously only there for like five minutes…
