Honey Badger on a Burro hunt.

I am slowly morphing into a docile yet rabid honey badger with a bad perm, chaffing genetails and a skill to restring a tennis racket in 7.5 minutes. All though this may seem uncomfortable it give me the initiative to apply ointments and experiment with different lotions and citrus creams. Today I will be pursuing an Itailian burro with a Rasputan type personality and clever wit derived from watching Wood Allen Movies while crotcheting pot holders for the blind with mispelled words and euphamisms on maintain good vision health. It has been revealed to me that The female Burro of the Rasputin heard are more tastey than a hand breaded tenderloin of the midwest with potatoe wedges and Mt Dew are all in one. So when I corner this Fan of a Woody "The Asian Peidaphile Daughter lover" Allen. I shall baffle him with some quick torts from a Bad Robin Williams movie. Whilest he ponders what the hell a penis has to do with being an alien named Mork banging some slut named Pam and screaming good morning to asin pacific country side, have in common with captain my captain and Abraham lincolns painful wound. Then spear him in the head with a worn out CV Joint from a YUGO Sedan and have him on the spit, Buttered,Salted and stuffed with imitation crab meat and freezer slaw. Then sit down give thanks, and feed all my honey badger off spring. Which were made while you were sleeping and Eeyore was fondling your children and filming it for Gerry and Kids documentary on Woody Allen Ethics and proper shower Etiquette. Then KNARFLE THE GARTHOCK! HAPPY THANKS GIVING MY FREINDS AND TWISTED READERS" PS if you stuck around long enough to read this. You are either extremely bore or in need of tharzine and prozac. Get help.