I'm Still Here, Bitches.
Jan 13, 2016 18:03:09 GMT
ISM Office, Buck U Productions, and 1 more like this
Post by Deleted on Jan 13, 2016 18:03:09 GMT
I guess everybody’s wondered at some point over one too many drinks or spliffs; is there life out there amongst the infinite stars, multitude of galaxies and the infinite darkness of space?
Well, look no further than Pollomania for your definite answer.
Surreal? Incomprehensible? Reality-shattering? Fucked up?
Hey, it’s just business as usual around these parts.
In a world where we’re desensitized to sex, drugs and violence through our exposure to mass-media; I guess it’s only fitting that we would find our kicks in Reality.
I honestly couldn’t tell you how I’ve ended up in this predicament, on my fucking merry way to the Big Apple to team up with that Thing from Outer Space.
I mean with all this talk about aliens and shit, I shouldn’t really neglect our opposition for the first show of the season: The Misfits from up north.
Just when I thought management was going to ease us back into work, I’ve now got a dance card with psycho-bitch Holly Guacamole and that autistic thug from the Canadian Embassy, Brute. (At least you couldn’t say that the foreign service weren’t equal opportunity employers).
See it’s not that I particularly like to pick on the mentally handicapped. Even a bastard like me would have depths that he wouldn’t sink to, even if it’s just the fucking dirt beneath my feet.
It’s not that I’ve got anything against Canucks in particular; I hate them as much as I hate any other asshole with a fresh plum up their ass.
When they told me to step the fuck aside and not get involved….
See… I didn’t take that too well.
Senor Loco is a lot of things, not all of them repeatable in polite company.
But if there’s one thing I’m going to stand my ground on, let it be this:
Mr. Crazy is not a coward.
Johnny Rousseau? Maybe, if the odds start going down south, he might sucker-punch a couple of fuckboys and high-tail it the fuck out of there…
But Mr. Crazy?
What can I say cabron? He’s Loco as fuck!
I mean who the fuck’s crazy enough to team up with an alien who’s likely to go all Independence Day on a Pollo Hall?
Look no further than the man in the funky mask.
The Misfits will be up against a cheat, a hedonist, an A-Grade asshole and frankly speaking, a waste of fucking space and oxygen…
But you will not be facing a coward.
Then again, we’re not going to be facing gentlemen (or ladylike lady) are we?
Lets not fuck around, we’re all Rudos here; the baddest of the bad, the liars, charlatans and monsters among the luchadores in this sport.
This is not going to be a clean fight, we will not be awarded points for our technical proficiency or proper form in the ring…
It’s going to be indecent, dirty and if anybody hasn’t thrown up in disgust yet, we haven’t done our jobs right.
May the dirtiest fucker win.
Well, look no further than Pollomania for your definite answer.
Surreal? Incomprehensible? Reality-shattering? Fucked up?
Hey, it’s just business as usual around these parts.
In a world where we’re desensitized to sex, drugs and violence through our exposure to mass-media; I guess it’s only fitting that we would find our kicks in Reality.
I honestly couldn’t tell you how I’ve ended up in this predicament, on my fucking merry way to the Big Apple to team up with that Thing from Outer Space.
I mean with all this talk about aliens and shit, I shouldn’t really neglect our opposition for the first show of the season: The Misfits from up north.
Just when I thought management was going to ease us back into work, I’ve now got a dance card with psycho-bitch Holly Guacamole and that autistic thug from the Canadian Embassy, Brute. (At least you couldn’t say that the foreign service weren’t equal opportunity employers).
See it’s not that I particularly like to pick on the mentally handicapped. Even a bastard like me would have depths that he wouldn’t sink to, even if it’s just the fucking dirt beneath my feet.
It’s not that I’ve got anything against Canucks in particular; I hate them as much as I hate any other asshole with a fresh plum up their ass.
When they told me to step the fuck aside and not get involved….
See… I didn’t take that too well.
Senor Loco is a lot of things, not all of them repeatable in polite company.
But if there’s one thing I’m going to stand my ground on, let it be this:
Mr. Crazy is not a coward.
Johnny Rousseau? Maybe, if the odds start going down south, he might sucker-punch a couple of fuckboys and high-tail it the fuck out of there…
But Mr. Crazy?
What can I say cabron? He’s Loco as fuck!
I mean who the fuck’s crazy enough to team up with an alien who’s likely to go all Independence Day on a Pollo Hall?
Look no further than the man in the funky mask.
The Misfits will be up against a cheat, a hedonist, an A-Grade asshole and frankly speaking, a waste of fucking space and oxygen…
But you will not be facing a coward.
Then again, we’re not going to be facing gentlemen (or ladylike lady) are we?
Lets not fuck around, we’re all Rudos here; the baddest of the bad, the liars, charlatans and monsters among the luchadores in this sport.
This is not going to be a clean fight, we will not be awarded points for our technical proficiency or proper form in the ring…
It’s going to be indecent, dirty and if anybody hasn’t thrown up in disgust yet, we haven’t done our jobs right.
May the dirtiest fucker win.