George Carlin died last night. Shit piss cunt fuck cocksucker motherfucker tits. Fart, turd and twat.
George convinced me long ago that there are no bad words, and that language is important. He was an amazing person, the funniest man in the world (in my opinion, of course) and I will miss him.
Damn, I'm old. I was listening to Carlin records when I was 10 (I had to sneak them from my mother's room and listen with the sound wayyyyyyyy down)
It disgusts me that in all the obits I have read (5 of them) they had to highlight not his humor, but his drug use. So he did drugs, big deal. He made people laugh. What is more important, one person's sobriety or ten thousand people laughing their asses off?
Well, the hippie-dippie weatherman is gone now, and it sucks.
Go with Joe, George. Joe bless you.
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I Am Lizard, Who The Hell Are You?
Rage, confusion, love and hope, in order of prevalence. And some bad poems.
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Lizard
I Am Lizard, Who The Hell Are You?
About Lizard
- Lizard
- I do not actually exist
1 comment:
shit tit motherfucker TWAT! fuck
you can say prick on tv like I pricked my finger, but not fingered my prick
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