“That is correct, Sir! Hahaha”

2 middle aged suburban dads sit around a cookout, beers in hand and share the same old story they’ve told a hundred times: Back in High School when they dropped acid behind the circle K, spent the night squeezed in the phone booth with a hobo in a top hat. Fucking so out of it they thought they time travelled…

“No Dad! Someday I’m gonna smoke weed for the government! I’m gonna make sure it’s safe for the people! You’ll see!”

Aren’t they dancing on the cover of the album?

Maybe they will, maybe they won’t.

Happened to mine with “Emmanuel Goes to Space”.

Yet here I am, wandering the streets of Florida biting multiple people’s faces every day, and my agent can’t buy me a mention in the tabloid rags.

Dad!?

Man, looking at that guys life is like looking in a mirror.

Looks like it’s back to giving out handies by the overpass for ol’ flippy.

The McD’s that the Tangerine Tyrant just ate at had to seal off the bathroom and call in a plumber. They won’t get a plaque to remember the moment, but those employees will never forget that terrible scene.

Why sad man run like sissy?

Thinking about Yeasty Alex, shirtless and sweating out his 2nd dose of daily brain pills all over the office couches while leering at people is my new diet. No way in hell can I eat after getting that thought in my head.

Now that’s a Country Song! you’re large adult son murders your dog, steals your truck and runs off with your wife...

They didn’t ask her about the barn full of failed Neil Diamond clones, scream-singing “Shiloh” in unison?

Loves grows where ever my monkey faced dick pouch goes.

And Mother says no pepperoni on that supreme. Italian cured meats will rile up the blood and cause sex thoughts.

You know Cheetahs don’t live that long. Their on the 5th or 6th one by this point.

I really hope it has Station. STATION!!!

I only know the bring back sexy song and I really haven’t engaged in pop music for 15 years, but shit, it was a fun half time show.