regardless of your gender, when you eat cannabis edibles, the place where you first feel the effects is your eyes as they slowly start to droop then melt off of your face. the second place you feel it is your balls as they start to tingle.

I’m gonna kill myself this time, I swear it. But first I just wanna use the bathroom to pee. And also I’d like to perfectly arrange all the shoes in my closet by size, color and brand just one last time. Then I’m going to kill myself for sure. Although I did want to get caught up on some TV shows. And jerk off. But before I do that I should probably download the newest MomPOV porn clips. OK, so in an hour, after those are done downloading, and 2 minutes after that when I’m done jerking off, I’ll kill myself. I do tend to get hungry after jerking off though. Maybe I’ll get some taco’s first. Although I’ll probably end up overeating again, at which point I’ll be too full to kill myself, so I’ll have to smoke a little pot to soothe my fat bloated stomach. And since I’ll be getting high i might as well start watching those TV shows but half way through watching I’ll probably get horny and have to jerk off again but this time I won’t download any new mompov porn, this way it’ll take probably take closer to 5 minutes to finish instead of the usual 2, and as soon as I’m done doing all that… then I’ll kill myself.
…Although back to back jerk off sessions do seem to make me very tired. Maybe I’ll just go to sleep after. Then when I wake up, that’ll be the perfect time to kill myself. But then it’ll be time for work and my work ethic is so great and I don’t like to let my underappreciative boss down so I guess maybe I’ll just work the day out. Then when I get home I’ll finally kill myself.
But first I’ll probably have to pee again.

third day in a row without sleeping and at 4:30 in the morning i smoke a godfather for dolo then chase a hermit crab through my apartment then i eat a hand full of marijuana seeds and stems and realize it’s the first thing i’ve eaten in two days so i get on delivery.com and order from the diner the following:

  • Five Bacon Cheddar Cheeseburgers Mashed Up Into a Giant Ball
  • Extra Hamburger Buns With The Insides Scooped Out On Second Thought I Just Want The Scooped Out Parts
  • One of Those Classic Anthora NYC Coffee Cups Full Of Pickle Juice
  • An Incredible Amount of Mayonnaise, So Much Mayonnaise
  • A Filthy Pair of Panties, Dont Care Whomst They Were Worn By
  • A Pack of GPC’s or Unfiltered Lucky Strikes
    and
  • A Medical Grade Tourniquet

then i realize i probably have to put fucking pants on now and also how i haven’t seen another human being since sunday and actually today is sunday which casts like a giant gloomy shadow of doubt and insanity over everything.
so i do some ketamine.
do too much ketamine
and some time later all i can do is listen to the sound of the delivery mexican banging on the door saying ‘hello hello senor senor’ as i lay paralyzed, drooling on the floor and I try to say ‘help me i can’t move’ i really do but instead end up sounding something more like a piano being gang raped by a deaf r&b singer while going through a meat grinder on the tarmac at jfk.

I walk in slow motion through a dreary basement dungeon past a man hanging in a harness while 3 or 4 people take turns fisting his asshole. Past a woman crucified on a giant wooden X, tied in place by her wrists and ankles by leather straps, a plastic KeyFood bag tied over her head, she gasps for air in ecstasy as two other women leather clad in replica SS Officer uniforms slash her small sweaty tits with medical grade scalpels. Past two men making out naked, covered in blood, using the thick red liquid to jerk each other off. Past a filthy mattress with a naked sleeping pregnant woman with the word ‘fuckslut’ written on her huge pregnant stomach in red lipstick. Still walking in slo-mo, the ketamine more or less starting to wear off, I moonwalk over to a small circular table where sits a familiar face: Stan. Or Steve? is cutting up lines of some pink powder, his sweat pants freshly wet with unknown body fluids.

“What’s up Stan, Steve, whatever the fuck your name is”

He continues cutting up lines, a dozen of them in 2 rows of 6, they are perfect, symmetrical, identical, on top of an old AOL free trial CD case, and he stares at the lines, transfixed, then says, flat and emotionless, “my names Chad”

part 2

then i look at gore on the internet and get on a huge ISIS kick and watch videos of:

  • them playing soccer with severed heads,
  • children decapitating men,
  • men getting their hands cut off by huge rusty scimitars in front of like a million people in some shithole dusty town square in Assfuckistan

and

  • endless montages of them firing big guns and missiles at nothing in particular and saying ‘allahu akbar allahu akbar’ while doing the running man and other culturally outdated dance moves as their hadji nightmare theme music plays.

then i stumble on a bunch of snackbar fails which are like terrorist blooper videos of when their cannons and mortars backfire and they blow themselves up by accident and it’s hysterical and i laugh hysterically every time one of them dies. It’s fucking hysterical.