/surge-sudden-deaths-athletes/
Fuck ‘em. By this time tomorrow, none of you are going to remember what an athlete even was—you're going to be totes distracted.
Here I'll distract you now: I drove around town fantasizing about needles all day and I got neither a tattoo, nor did I have sex with that hot acupuncturist. Kind of did want to, but kind of didn't even really want to, though, cuz I'm kind of on duty and I got shit to do and the next & last fucking time I listened to you fucking idiots talk about needles you're going to get a fucking punch in the job, both of you at one time.
Just poor a little bleach on it, MARKHOSE. I remember that day. I think that may well have been when it started! You deserved what happened to you.
That day. And you probably deserved it a lot more that other day that happened to you too. What a piece of work. G–ddam.