Sunday, July 5, 2020

So, I decided that today would be a good day to replace the line on my fishing rod. I intend to embark on several epic fishing expeditions and the coming weeks. Well now: let me tell you about monofilament fishing line. It is manufactured by Satan himself in the bowels of perdition. Created from the tortured, malignant, souls of all the worst murderers, rapists, politicians, Liars, thieves, and other various and Sundry assholes. I tackled the task with the greatest of confidence. Secure in the firmly held belief that I was competent and more than able to accomplish the task. Boy was I wrong. Before I got done I was wrapped up from head to toe in invisible fishing line. The cat was tied up in it too as were several items of furniture the fishing pole itself and at one point, I swear it's true, even the ceiling fan. I am now traumatized and I'm pretty sure I will need therapy. Not only that, but I have the premonition that my next turd will be tied to my liver.

Naughty words:

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