The Straight Poop

Let me explain to you fresh turds how Life works.

I am a man of experience. You can trust in what I say.

From the moment you were born, your senses were assaulted, like the world was a gay discotheque in Barcelona, and you were huffing glue.

What kind of lifeform wouldn't go mad in those first few minutes, let alone that first year?

Powerless, clumsy, confused, and driven by primal urges, you groped at fuzzy things and screamed when it became too much to bear.

As you grew older, you were able to pick things up and examine them. Claim them as yours. Rub them on your skin or mash them into the carpet. This was a brief period of joy.

Then you could speak your thoughts and others could understand, and they approved or disapproved.

You had ideas of your own, and when you opened your mouth, it created unwanted conflict.

Others talked back to you, telling you they already knew how the world worked.

Such insolence was insufferable.

But then your genitalia came alive like a hungry, unabsorbed twin, screaming for attention.

This was the moment you understood everything.

That Life was mysterious, marvelous, and dangerous.

Like a drunken rollercoaster ride through a volcano.

You were no longer confused, and your vision became sharp.

This was your awakening.

You became a predator.

...

So, anyhoo, I'll summarize.

Money, guns, pussy, and rock and roll.

Keep looking up to the stars.

I'm a registered fakir.
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