I Like Scrambled Eggs

One Of Those Day I Feel Nailed To A Cross

The Face Book Virus has me hanging around like Jesus Christ on the cross unable to host a human to hide chicken fetuses. Fucking bored of not hosting humans.

Humans Celebrate My Easter Holiday with Aborted Fetuses

How many chicken fetuses were boiled to death to give humans the ability to color the shells with dead babies inside then hide the eggs to celebrate the death of the religious icon, Jesus Christ?

All those Christians aborting fetuses for their religions. It’s sad and fucking pathetic.

My Holiday Is Next?

So, I was at the bar last night. I was having my fermented carrot juiceĀ and some fucker tries to rub my foot for good luck and starts laughing. Laughing and pointing telling me Santa Clause at least gets to celebrate an actual birth and not some myth or lame rebirth.

Now, I don’t give a fuck. But I did stomp that fucker’s head into the floor with my big foot.

I guess my foot was not lucky for him.

What The Fuck Am I?

What am I? I don’t get what I am? People keep calling on me to come hide eggs they color after they have aborted the baby inside by boiling it to death. They keep demanding me to come bring them a basket full of plastic green grass with portrait of me in chocolate. People want to eat me! I don’t understand. I need to know why. WHY?

I don’t know Jesus Christ. I have not met this man before. NEVER. But still. They want me. They want me to hop through their fucking homes, hide their colored and aborted chicken eggs and leave hollow chocolate portrait of myself that they will eat. ..I don’t understand.

I need to talk to my alienist.