I've always been a bit of a klutz. Last week

I've always been a bit of a klutz. Last week I stumbled in my stilettos and tore a hole in the fabric of reality. It was a blue hole & the edges shimmered like shoals of tiny fish

in Barbados. That was when I was a Bicardi Model. That was also the time of my greatest victory of a rich ugly man.

Now, careful reader, you may ask how it was possible for me to be both a "Bicardi Model" and a "rich ugly man" simultaneously. We must return to the moral beginning of this saga

one day, I was encountered by the Grim Reaper, who said, "MARY LOUISE PARKER STACY CYRUS, YOUR SOUL IS MINE." But before I screamed, I wondered why the hell my name was so long?

Maybe my name was so long because my mother, Sara Lee Wilkes-Barre Hermione St. Vincent Murgatroyd and my father, Charles Philip Arthur George Monte Cristo Van Halen Cyrus

were both quite pretentious & insisted that I, their spawn, use all of their names. For tax return purposes, however, I had to create an acronym for my last name: WBHSVMAGMCVHC.

That's short for "William Borden, Highness Sir Vizir Maggot Arachnid Goat Masochist Clown Veteran Herding Cretin". Why anyone would name their child that way, I have no idea.

Perhaps they thought it was "cool," but more than likely they were just plain stupid. It just amazes me how dumb people continue to breed. Hillbillies with just enough money to

buy smartphones and tablets and gas fare to hang out at Walmart. It makes me want to diarrehea out of my huragauarhuahaguaghrughurg adpsplap plop.