You cheapen life. As if it wasn't cheap enough. Your fucking brain has the same worth as a box of Pampers you fucking slobber factory. I really gotta say this. The ultimate red flag to how stupid someone is pops up in the first ten seconds that you meet them. Anybody that feels the need to tell anybody else that they look like somebody famous is a fucking imbecile. I mean, it baffles me. I'm shaking my head right now just because I can't understand it for the life of me. The whole need to cheapen somebody's identity with some inane pop culture reference. I'm not even going to bother to complete that sentence. I just don't feel like bothering to use my fucking brain that much. We have a lot in common. Yes, I'm just like you. When I meet somebody, instead of saying something funny or amusing or even slightly witty, I prefer to just spew my fucking lobotomy juice all over them by commenting that they look like ACDC because they're wearing a tie and have long hair. Or any white guy that has a black moustache looks like Frank Zappa. And then, I like to smile and congratulate myself by how totally clever I was with such genius insight. "No, you really really do. You look just like him. I'm serious. You really do." Don't get me wrong. I know by posting this blog, I'm not going to be making any huge imprint on human stupidity, but let me just say this. If you have ever told anybody they look "just like" some famous person, you probably are nothing but a shit machine machine, so make sure and pop that vermin out your pussy at the fastest rate possible and while you're at it, take a fucking shit on it. We need all the shit we can get. We can't get enough of it. And then, when you're done, put on some crazy exercise get-up. And take a ten minute walk at Runyon Canyon. And maybe along the way, you can stop at a coffee place and then get your phone surgically implanted to your fucking face you fucking mindless diarrhea mouthed nincompoop. If you call walking in a beautiful park exercise, I would hate to imagine what your daily routine comprises of. The whole idea that walking could ever be considered "exercise" by anybody under the age of 65, saddens me to no end. You are fucking dead. You are already dead. Please fucking kill yourself. And, I'm not kidding. I really really really want you to kill yourself in the most sensational manner as possible. And take as many people with you as possible. I gotta wear some fucking ridiculous get-up to go take a walk in a park. As much day-glow as possible and plastic apparatussesseses. Hopefully some noisy pants. And then, I let my dog off the leash just to yell at it the whole time. And then, after ten minutes, "whew!", you wipe the sweat off your brow and trek back to your car. Wow, you're going to have to wash those "exercise" clothes twice to get all that sweat and dirt out. But, you've worked hard for all those multiple hours of stoned reality show viewing that you got planned for the evening.