A man is driving home, thinking about beating his wife. Along the way, he passes a turtle. I am that turtle.
Falls off bed.
Drags self to computer.
Vomits.
Drags self to bathroom.
Combs vomit covered hair.
Vomits.
Drags self to computer.
Clicks new chapter for Home is for the Weak.
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Still better than having a crash on the highway.
No dying allowed .-.
The beauty of the creative process.
It's art, fillies and gentlecolts.
*waits for the second punchline to drop when the new chapter is even more crude than this blog post*
Please focus on getting well first. We do not need you straining yourself to write a chapter.
Glad to see that you're healthy. now stop writing and get the fuck to bed.
"#I have a illness and my only cure is a gimp orphan in a cardboard box"
Whipped cream is the cure for everything.