Television dinners are not usually accompanied with trouble and disdain. It is one thing to be a man and another to eat a man. See, what I am getting at is that I am ready to be seen in public again. After two months of staring at middle aged college woman enter the laundry mat, I seek solitude. I want to hear and I want to be heard. I will never be the man I once was and I will never again be the man I am now.
I tried to find my place in this world. I attempted to be a Shaolin monk, but that did not work out. I tried to liberate the rhinoceros from my local zoo and I was heavily sued. I attempted to adopt Elian Gonzalez for the sole purpose of a tax write off, yet the Cubans would not hand him over. I attempted to smooth talk my way into my cousins pants, and she filed for a restraining order. I am no longer invited to family get togethers. I joined a cult for the hearing impaired and was later discharged when all 237 members mysteriously died in a snow cone accident. I was the lone survivor. (Thank God for hearing).
I even became Eddie Murphy's protoge, but he called me a Wanksta. I soon left his home and returned to Papa New Guinea for rowing classes at the local preschool. I became emotionally unstable and I killed hundreds of small lizards and toads during a state of rage. I went to my psychic and she provided me with the perfect anecdote for my depression. She sent me home and told me to once again return to the Little Car forum. I shall be healed and reach inner peace if I do so, she told me. So here I am, ready to rejoin all the great members of the Little Car message board.
