Burn, Burn, Burn

It hasn’t been my month frankly. First the wanger bending, then the ball zipping, now today I’m suffering a little from what Johnny Cash referred to as “Ring of Fire” due to some deadly-hot Indian chow last night. I was up half of the night blasting the porcelain altar with the remnants of indescribable vegetables. My toilet looked like that shitter in “Trainspotting”. Remember that thing? I loved the movie but didn’t understand a fucking word those people were saying. Thank God for subtitles.

Anyway, yeah that was my boudoir last night. In all honesty, my anus hasn’t been this inflamed since I was seven and Tommy Bardelli tried to convince me that doing Evel Knievel stunts on a bike with a missing seat was a good idea. Thanks a fuckin’ bunch, Tommy. Took me a month to walk like I hadn’t just been pounded by a horse. Dude’s in jail now, hopefully receiving a little anal inflammation of his own.

Played an emergency show at the Bellagio last night, suckers. That’s big time y’all know. I was helping a bro out however, not headlining or anything tres cool like that. I was playing piano for Big Bobby Flatbush who is a 450lb African dude who has hair straight from a 1976 roller disco and a voice like Marvin Gaye. He also hosts the most alarming suits seen on a dude since that cool, black pimp dude on Starsky & Hutch. Good time was had by all and there was an all night free buffet. That’s a Boofay not like…Jimmy Buffet. Though come on, really, the guy should just call himself Jimmy Boofay and add some comedy to the world because his songs sure aren’t helping much, unless you’re in need of an insomnia cure or a need to kill.

Now I gotta go grab some sleep before my eyelids go on strike. I’m getting too old for this staying up all night, shit.

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2 Responses to Burn, Burn, Burn

  1. BeckEye says:

    Ha ha…I had to watch Trainspotting with the subtitles on too.

    Sorry to hear about your nether region’s recent woes.

  2. tonyspunk says:

    Thank you lovely lady! My bottom half is in need of some TLC. Are you available? Ha ha, I kill me.

    Got to run to the Poo Palace again.

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