TouchMacaque

I like saying words too

My great grandmother’s Danish step aunt used to buy sticks of RAM for her husband every Valentine’s Day, she would ram them into his ass but they would just break and it was a total waste of money. Five years ago she passed away because she didn’t know you’re supposed to huff jenkem and drank the bottle, they held the funeral at an Arby’s in Texas and placed bottles of jenkem all over the place and the staff were pretty upset. Thankfully it’s Arby’s so there weren’t any other customers.

I just don’t understand why there were so many authors at something called bottles for Christ. And why were there referees?

Twelve years ago my brother’s ex girlfriend’s wife attended Bottles for Christ where she witnessed a fight between two emerging authors, one was a woman who’s name escapes me but the title of her book was “the girl with the dog dick tits”. She didn’t take kindly to another authors adaptation of the classic “pizza clowns from space hell”, claiming it was rubbish and a direct insult to writers. They argued over several bottles of wine until the referees announced the winner was a different author who had written a cookbook about making dinosaur sashimi. Everyone thought it was ridiculous because you would have to figure out time travel in order to even get dinosaur meat, that is until a young descendant of Alberto Weinstein came up with a way to incubate dinosaurs from nothing more than the DNA contained in oil. Unfortunately he died of sepsis before testing out his theory and no one ever got to eat dinosaur sashimi.

Bottles for Christ never happened again after that year, 32 people died of alcohol poisoning and another 210 were hospitalized with severe liver problems. At least those 32 people got to meet their Lord in the end so I guess bottles for Christ wasn’t a complete waste of time.