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Long Division

  • Jun 24
  • 1 min read

June 24th, 2026


My favorite juicy conspiracy theory is Joan Rivers being murdered after outing Michelle Obama as a biological fella. Can I control hoping all of the above is true? Death and taxes are un-sexy so I require a shadow government for the comic I live, write, and hope to hook up with the brawny, sensitive, 30-esque artist of. Send him my way if you know the poor starving lad I was put here (planet, not prison) to help. Anyway, Joan used to have this bit "How God Divides" back in the Stone(r) Age circa 1983. Premise being if he makes you hot, you're stupid, likewise vise versa. Getting lots of complements on my smarts lately, still I work out like a fiend every morning and sometimes again in the evening with plenty of cardiac crap and emphasis on 'dat azz doe. Reality has sunk in this person I see reflected ain't what they do. Like a couple married forty years still seeing their prom dates behind the ravages of gravity and grains down the hourglass funnel, the dude who made tires squeal stomping down Broadway in shorts got buried alive. Pretty, dumb dudes are my natural joint. Good thing I'm in a warehouse full, right?



 
 
 

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