Monday, December 27, 2010
If I were gonna write a musical, I think I'd call it "Poopy Pants Superstar." I can't get that out of my head... "poopy pants, SUPERstaaaaaaaar!" I mean think about it. What could be more powerful than the ability to save your poopies in the convenient pocket you're already wearing every place you go? It's like the naughty equivalent of being able to save some kind of religious artifact.
When the time gets nigh, make sure to hold your beloved tighter than an unfisted sphincter underneath the poopytoe. If you've never hung up a poopytoe before, that's just a mistletoe decorated with delicious, lovely corn laden poo. Maybe I'm just a lovesick little puppy, but my Ethan just drives my poopy hole into spasms of love and lust and just plain gooey goodness. He really fists my shithole, if ya know what I mean ;)
So maybe one of these days you'll hit the local theater and check out Poopy Pants Superstar- I'm not that good at writing long stuff, but if you guys wanted to see it, I'd do whatever it takes to make you guys happy. I mean it- I love you guys. If you were hurt, I'd fist out my own guts to use as a tourniquet, and coat your wounds with holy healing poopies- because you absolutely rock!