When future historians look back upon the life of Michael Clifford Kuczi --
AND THEY WILL DO SO, YOU KRISPY-KREME-EATIN' MOTHERFUCKERS--
they will not know for sure without my confirmation. (There are so many, many, MANY things I have done that I am proud of, not the least of which was to single-handedly CREATE, TRAVERSE, & MAINTAIN THE STABLE WORMHOLE AT LAGRANGE POINT 5; THUS ENABLING THE RECOVERY, RESCUE/EXHUMATION & FULL-BODY BACK-TO-LIFE RESURRECTION of MANY missing murder victims
-- note that I am using the word "MANY, MANY" here, O my schweinhunds, and you are my schweinhunds, no one else would claim you thrice-Goddammned ASSHOLES OBSESSED WITH ANUSES for themselves, and yeah, it's not just a story... my nanotechnology was, YES, IN FACT, my body re-built a brand-new anal sphincter muscle for itself, ALMOST FROM SCRATCH, and I am as surprised as you, you dig? I noticed (barely, that birth was a killer) that my prolapsed anus was, uh, wait, I had a prolapsed anus, huh? I thought that was, like... just a dream... well, nope.
I really did, invent some shit, and you can patent my anus, elbows, and anal sphincter muscle Part Deux: RE-DOOKSIES'S RE-BORN-AGAIN AIN'T-THAT-AN-AN-OLD-PINK-SOCK? NO! Yeah, I woke up, right as rain. I was relieved. Now, I don't know much about the homo-gay lifestyle, certainly not as much as YOU chuckleheads, that's fuck-and-damn-sure, but I do know this much:
One never finds a brand-spanking-new analsphincter muscle for sale on the twisted, perverse, Universally-loathed back-alley black-market body-partz'stuff district of Han Dold City for ANYTHING LESS than $19,500,000t Jackstarbux... because, as you all know, in the future I invent a kind of dog whistle training kit that will teach any D.O.G. a new trick, no matter how old it is: sniff around on the ground, find truffles at any depth, dig up the truffle, gently drop the truffle in its doggo-marsupial pouch (co-licenced from Ron Popeil, even though I am not worthy, that dude IS The Master, oops there goes Doctor Who stock over night, fuck you Gordon Ramsay), and then, in just five minutes or less?
With a patented *ding!* sound that we recorded during a seance in which Ramona beats the shit out of Richard H. and Richard G. over and over and over again with two wooden spoons and a serving bell shaped like Arecibo (now available on Pay-Per-View in certain select markets), your doggo goes *ding*! Just like that. Your doggo goes *ding*!
And shits out a brand-new anal sphincter muscle. In your choice of pre-configured sizes, shapes, colors... I mean, really, it's gonna be the same shape, it's just an o-ring for your a-nus so your p-nus doesn't leave your b-znzs to drag her/it's self to drag her/it's shits-her-self around on the shag carpeting by grabbing fist-full's of itself around the floor... anywhere around the floor, I am sure, but you can be reasonable in your confidence she's gonna be dragging her Itself's body to the nearest crapper on the floor she's on OR A LOWER ONE... because if you have ever tried to haul yourself up a flight of stairs with two broken legs, a broken hip, and a 3/4 inch of antelope's horn driven into one side of your skull and a nine-inch railroad-spike-tie driven crosswise through your at-the-time-of-driving, FULLY-ERECT-PENIS, well, believe me... I haven't either, but I saw it happen at one of M. Aquino's Christmas Eve4Ever parties once, and you can trust me on this.. it really didn't look like it was worth the effort. Or the pain. Or the loss of the penis on the stairway railing halfway up, it got caught on a piece of the bannister, right? Oh, G-d, never to me, please.
Quality shag carpeting is horrifically expensive, My Darlings. You simply have no idea until you have a 3 bedroom farm house, out in the middle of noplace, Area XX in particular, covered in the stuff, walls too... so I can see why the Air Force thought they would give the project a shot. Because if they actually did figure out a way to turn Richard C. Hoagland into a sewer rat and force it to go out at night on the hunt for spare eyes of newt left behind on planets WITHOUT a stable wormhole at La Grange Point Five Point Five, that would make the whole thing pay for itself again, because Ramona Bell is fucking mother goddam "holy shit she's rich, bish!" LOADED.
"In Minecraft." Yeah, whatevah. Also "whatevah, Tammy Smith is a Man," no, "Tami Topher Grace Smith" is a Man, no doubt. (I will mount her cock on the goddam wall over my fireplace, too, honestly--thanks a bunch, Skylight For Heroin But Never A Can Of Piss In. Jesus FUCKING Christ, you assholes only think you know how to spell "Sorry!"
It sure does explain the THREE (3) birthdays you assholes forgot about, though, one of which happened when I was fucking 8 or 9 years old, I think, as well, as why, in general, I never get to have friends or parties or EVEN A FUCKING NORMAL LIFE. I'll fucking explain that part later. How about you fucking pay first for the story next time, assholes, oh, and, by the way, yeah, I probably will IV some dope right after I publish this fucking post, "Nerd," what do you say? And, how about you fucking complain about something important next time you decide to run your fat fucking mouth about me, either behind my back, or out in front in public by about five goddam minutes. Hang on, let me see if you any of you miserable little shits sent me any money.
(Ben Rafter, Jayson Beatty, & Matthew T. Williams: Name the 3 Beckies Karnak The Magnificent is known for having gone to prison to serve three consecutive life sentences in securityMAX prisonSWEETY4, Kuczifer, AmanDUUUUUUUUUUUH.
Vengeance for Maestro "Marie" Mane-Earl-Marry-My-Shotgun-Y-I-Said-Blam-Blam-Blam-"But I'm not Welsh!"-Bang-Bang-Bang the Eighth-Ewe-R-Now-BUTCH. And damn, that's one helluva name, right? But Johnny Cash isn't gonna be eating wedding cake out of a bush to sing that song on Grand Ol' Opery anytime soon, that's for sure, and p.s.: Kirsten, just fuck off, you did all this before and after the fact too. I'm disgusted with you fucking asshole people. My phone just got a message? I do NOT even care even if it is Karrin Hughes, unless she's gonna sell me a Monkey's Paw for... JUST. TWO. DOLLARS. I fucking hate you.z) The future in the future just called the future me in my future's parenthetical to buy stock in Taco Bell before hey change Bell to N and rename The Emerald City to Zarlrobert City, because some old tired drunken boorish fuckhead and not just "full-time coke whore" but "DOUBLE-FULL-TIME-AND-TRIPLE-TIME-LOOP-ON-EVERY-FUCKING-WEEKEND-COKE-WHOREPATRICK-KILL-PAP-TRICK-KIRKATRICK: A WHORE MAN WHORE FOR MEN WHO ARE FUCKING WHORES (and also asshole aabos who eat AABO assholes! and are are FAGS FOR QUEERS! Boo! Hisss!)!!!" Jesus, no wonder Divine Court is so busy tonight, and You were crying so fucking much, I mean, really, I was wondering if Baby Jesus just found out abut the Armenian Holocaust AND the Aremenian Genocide AND the ARE MEAN IANS EVEN GENO'S PIZZA ROLL MATERIAL, "FUNNY" PUN-IT Punnet? Let's find the fuck out after fucking you in the ass in a Benghazi broom cloest bathhouse, where the rent therein is AT LEAST two-fifty. Dollars. Per minute. Paid in advance. 1,000 year minimum. And, now you now why. Let's continue, eh? Doing drugs, of course! (EVERYONE: Jackstar is probably right on this one, and I am Jackstar, and, the next motherfucking one of you fucking pigs with dicks who just murder their sick duck and make soup for the poor out of it without even asking it why it is such a sad duck and why the long face... look, I just can't even right now, I'm fucking sad. Really sad. Because you cost a lot of people their peace of mind, that's why. And I, once again, don't really give a shit if you think I'm "not supposed to do that" and are gonna pull rank on me, okay? I'm so goddam livid, I've got a fucking vampire rat in myf fucking living room to deal with, and if you thought "I'll just disappear and live off The Trust,man: that is wht it is there fore. ) I am so goddam side... Bellgab you let me embarass the shit out of myself and make me never want to hug anyone ever again. Good job. You'll be hearing from your wives attorneys' wives attorney's in the morning, yeah, pretty sure. And fuck you Amber, Ben's Son. You are not Amber Tamblyn and if I see that piece of shit Benjamin Thomas Cooper, I WILL KILL HIM. (So, that's why I can't marry her. Maybe I'll get over it? Fat chance, you arrogant junkie fuck. I said "PSYCH EVAL" and you fucking laughed at me and then you got your mother killed. Eat shit and die, Island Boy SCUM.)
But the man driving that mil.spec combat.orgy.clone told me, used to be a woman--and they are tougher stock than we poor fragile men, and that's why we love them. And he told me, that she would rip a man's penis off in a second, and drive on down to the C.Crane SeaPawn Shoppe in the Ye Olde Quaternary Quarter of Han Dold City, INSTANTLY! Any time she found a brand-spanking-new anal sphincter muscle, still in factory packaging, for anything less than, oh... about 20 billions Jackstarbux, because you see, it's amazing what can be done with nanotechnology in the future, and it's really amazing what a man can put up with if you feed him enough opiates in his corn flakes, and since she had experienced both types of very uinque pains...
both having her cock ripped off, and giving birth, at the same time even, she knows for a fact.... if she could still turn around a 10 billion dollar profit on ripping a man's dick off, shoving it up her kooter, jumping off a bridge with a time-traveler's wife and in one arm, a one-way teleporter ticket to Han Dold City's Barter Bailey & Barnum's General Bailey Quarters General Bailey Barter Bailey & Beef Barley Soup Emporium in the other, and get back to Disneyland just in time before Space Mountain launches its' last set of cars and after the park's After Dusk After The Apocalypse After The Singularity A Collapses On A Timeline Before Singularity K Gets Constructed Over By Michael Kuczi's La Grange Point 5 Point 5 Poo-Poo-Point FIVE-FIVE-FIVE finally gets a stable implementation... because that was the trouble with La Grante Point Five Point Five, the instability, you dig? Well, Michael Kuczi fixed that little problem with his first stable wormhole, built all by himself while working as a lonely, ugly, and smelly and black coal miner in Castle Rock, Jefferson... but you probably think it was in Washington State, and the Governor was Reggie Hammond. (Who was a great Sheriff and an even better Omar Sheriff, but a terrible cartographer. Sorry, Cherise, we'll get you next time *pours out a little nanotech from a nanoforty* What? She wanted to fuck him, and that makes him a pedo? Because he was 24 and she was 16 and you lied to him and told him she was 14? You fucking Earthlings are fucking stupid, you know that?) Just fuck off.
I can see why, that combat-clone driver told me that, "Honestly, Art, it's so much fun to pull a man's dick off with your own bare hands just to hear him squeal, that I would do it every goddam morning before getting out of bed and then find another perfectly good man with another perfectly good penis to do it again the next day, even if it didn't turn a 10,000,000 profit... mostly to stay in shape, right, keep those forearms toned, as it's not just kinda hard to rip a man's dick off... it is REALLY hard to rip it off. Especialy if it's hard in the first place. It attaches pretty far back, deep in the recesses of the taint. And of course the man will struggle with you. At least the first time. Maybe even every time, even if you promise him half of the profit received from trading his dick in on the open black market body part rip-your-dick-off-and-shut-the-fuck-up-about-it stock-market in the future. Oh yeah, it stings a little, that's for sure. Probably a lot more than breaking a hymen could.
But, the combat-clone driver went on to say... if you put that man in a female clone, or some other form of human with a kooter and a twat and an anus, you know, the whole package--those are rare to find these days, but they're still out there, but it's not hard to get a man into a woman's body to experience the joy of childbirth. But is IMPOSSSIBLE to find a man who is willing to experience the joy of the AFTERBIRTH twice, let alone, the during birth. It's pretty painful, all right. By comparison, take your next afterbirth, and feed it your bottom lip while being boiled alive in red hot MAGma. That's about what it's like.
Although being beaten to death by Carol Burnette wearing a tu-tu might be a close enough approximation, yeah.
p.s.: Innerreach, I'm going to feed you to him first and then kill him. FO
