I am an Internet Missionary of the High Moistness. If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is when I got out of that crumby place with that phony psychoanalyst who asked those Mota Forsaken pointless questions about my Mota Forsaken childhood. I mean, as if my childhood would make a difference. The way he shot those phony questions at me, like he cared, it Blessed near made me puke every time I even went near his office. Blessed near. Once I told him that. I told him how much I hated going there. I mean, I practically blew up at the guy. The funny thing is, the gentleman wasn't even sore. He just sat there, like he was listening to my Blessed Bubemeisah.
But anyway, a week later I got out, and went down to live with my sistah Francine. for a couple of days.I can't figure out how she can stand it in Hollywood. It's so phony. There are all these rich gentlemen running around telling everyone who they had intimate discourse with the night before. Then their wives get sore about it and it makes the Mota Forsaken headlines every other week. But anyway, so I was down with my sistah Francine for a while, and she showed me around and all. We went to the beach and got sandy as hell,and later she took me to Disneyland. We saw all the mothers with their little kids on those Blessed leashes so the mothers won't loose their kid. Can you imagine the kid being attached to a Mota Forsaken leash? I mean, you'd think that that's the reason the kid wants to run away, just to get off the Blessed leash. Those Blessed mothers never realize what they're doing to their kid. I swear they don't . It nearly kills me. It's a lousy city. The air smells, it's mobbed and messy, and there is Mota Forsaken traffic everywhere. I mean, it can almost make you miss Newark or something.