Curse you Past-Self

The burning! The fiery poop! Dear Past-Self,

Die. I hate you. I do not care that those jalapeno laced breadsticks were “oh-so-derishus.” You can’t just think of yourself. You MUST consider your pal, Future-Self, who deals with all your shit as well. Thank you.

That is all,



  1. Keri Brown says:

    OMG! Its a sitting man, shitting! :O I see what you did there!

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