My fantasy changed somewhat in that moment

My fantasy changed somewhat in that moment to a vision of me shooting my car first, then myself. As my chin sank into my chest in defeat I heard someone crying.

It was Richard Simmons. That kinky-haired freak was blubbering on the radio and I really wanted to shoot myself, I reached into the glove compartment and

something fell as I was shuffling around in all the things that ended up in the small area. It was.......a picture of Richard Simmons?? Am I cursed? cangegetaway fro

m that last mainac! Oh Richard! why do you mock me now? You know your hairy tank top makes me weak! But I must go now and meet

Dave, who has an actual hairy chest, rather than your tank top with shaved hair taped to it! Oh, oh Richard...why did I ever find you a winner in the first place?

Richard couldn't respond, all he could do was sit in the gutter and cry, cry for the lost man love of his life. "Why did Dave take him from me, why!" Drugs took the pain away, and

-roderm being his pill of choice. Rich figured you could never have too much testosterone, especially when you mix it into an Amp cocktail with arsenic trioxide and

good old fashioned meth. But if Rich was going to be the healthiest meth head in the trailer park he would need more than just his collection of drugs and money.

wig & lipstick,ditching bra pads.The estrogen had worked. He hit play mimicking her moves.They wanted JF? He'd give'em JF! Simmon's bootleg DVDs were only given away by his crotch.