You should never have gotten out of bed this morning.
You knew it as soon as you looked in the mirror.
Your eyes were Ab-fab and hotass, like two big cacti. Your immediate instinct was to wank, but instead you decided to call your friend Jen: you knew you couldn't make it on your own.
The day was a Wednesday, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, especially not before your usual morning cup of coffee. In lieu of your traditional splash of rum in your steaming mug, you opted for a shot of Harp to spike up your morning. That Wednesday needed a punch.
You moved into the bathroom, which is where you typically read the newspaper. Most of the paper seemed business as usual:
WEATHER: 33 Degrees F with a
48% chance of a tornado.
HEADLINE: France, canada, and
United States have been
completely leveled due to nuclear warfare.
But the health watch really caught your attention:
HEALTH WATCH: Disease Alert: Fatal Outbreak Most obvious symptom: black warts located on victim's weenie. After wart-sighting, victim has approximately 3 hours to live.
HHhhmmmmm….you thought. Wait a second! Is that what you saw this morning? black warts on your weenie?! Yes!
Just then, Jen knocked on the door. As you welcomed your friend, you said, "Well, Jen, I have black warts on my weenie. That means I only have 3 hours to live!."
"That's OK," replied Jen. "It means we finally have an excuse to go to the Wicker Park. I've always wanted to take you there."
The two of you set off for the Wicker Park. But before you could even leave your street, a group of robbers approached you, sexily demanding all your money. Out of fear, you reached into your pocket. But instead of pulling out your money, you remembered your black warts, and decided to teach the robbers a lesson.
"Wanna catch these?" you shouted, and began waving your infected weenie gayly.
The robbers began screaming like a bunch of wolves, but the distraction didn't work on everyone. Before you could escape, the robbers had taken your and Jen's wallets.
"Wait!" you exclaimed forceably, after they had left. "I have the extra 5 dollars that I keep in my Underoos! We can go to the Wicker Park with that!"
The two of you boarded the El, and calmly waited for your stop. You hadn't been on the train for more than 188 minutes when it gave a sudden lurch into darkness. People began yelling desperately and stupidly as they tried to get off the derailed train. In the luscious confusion, you were certain you infected at least 56 dozen people with the fatal disease.
As the deep crowd spilled into the chaotic street, you and Jen noticed that you were right in front of the Wicker Park. Just then, the temperature dropped to 33 Degrees F, and the tornado broke loose. Plus, the Wicker Park was surrounded by 77 hundred firefighters trying to put out a horny fire that was spreading throughout the entire area.
You looked at Jen, and the two of you began to laugh like a couple of blonde lubricants.
In a moment of supreme generosity, you extended your black wart covered weenie. "Here, Jen! Why wait around in a place like this when we can leave it together?!" you shouted. Smiling hesitantly, the two of you stood together amidst the wreckage, calmly rubbing weenies and waiting to succumb to the black warts.