You Live The Blues

Right. When ever I hear people speaking German I like to say, "I'm sorry, but I don't speak Spanish." I think I only amuse myself sometimes.
The women here are crazy and they eat pretzels a lot. A deadly combination.
I need to get into better shape. I need to run more.
I guess it's cool to live abroad for a while. But my heart lies in the dream of having a job with a sports franchise, owning a bar and finding a rich woman to share a bank account with.
Cricket is so weird.
She doesn't even have to be rich, just have a job. These women don't work. What the bloodclot? Lazy ass bums. They need to get a job is what they need to do. I ain't running a socialist sex farm here people. Except in writing socialist sex farm, I think I ought to run such an enterprise. That has possibilities.
Everything will eventually fall apart. It is all about how far can you lead them until it does. That is the measure of the measuring stick.
I am really getting excited about my new socialist sex farm. This can change the world.
Not a day goes by, not one, where I don't think about the rabid infestation of roads leading to lawyers. My father never wanted me to work here. However, there is a three minute rule, and here we are. Throw a card and take the fate. Stand up and be a man.