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Desperate Cry for Help 014
Hi there, boys and girls! Let Uncle Charlie tell you a story.
A story about the man, about being continuously fucked over by a closed minded society, about recreational drug use, and an ill-advised trip to a strip club in Nevada. It's a pretty fucked up tale boys and girls, but it has a happy ending because everyone dies and ends up buried in the desert... except for me.
I mean, if I died, I wouldn't be here to tell you the story, now would I?
Can't you morons use deductive reasoning? You snot-nosed brats.
Anyway, there I was, just trying to do the right thing - go to school, hold a job, trying and failing to be hapy in a world which was constructed purely to annoy the living fuck out of me.
OH, I'm sorry children. I keep using the word "FUCK" in front of you. Do you know what that means?
That's okay; just ask your mummy and daddy tonight over dinner – after the guests arrive.
Anyhow, where was I?
OH YES! So I went to Nevada: land of gambling and prostitution - The American Dream.
I had already lost $500 at the craps table and spent the rest of my money on blow and shoving twenties into some slut's G-string.
It was a good night. The kind of night you could go to prison for in many Latin American countries.
So there I was - high, broke, and happy. With only the shirt on my back and a fully loaded 22 caliber pistol.
I remember the cries.
And then, I went to prison. But there I was a good boy.
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