Bruce Springstein, you are a pussy

I listened to your show, it was horrible. At least seventeen people were at the show. You sang "Born In The U.S.A." without stating "BORN IN THE USA! I WAS BORN IN THE USA." I personally take offense, Mr. Springstein. Furthermore, I hope your guitar (which is a gay guitar) will assault you about the testicles and your shameless anus.

Your friend,
Kerry.

P.S. F.U.
P.P.S. I would like to congratulate you on your successful reunion tour. I hope your band kills you in your sleep with your guitar.

G'night MuthaF'er.

P.P.P.S. You are no longer the Boss. Tony Danza is.
Bitch.
P.P.P.P.S. U R A S.O.B.
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Henry Rayker
¶ 6:50 PM

  The fucking post office. They think they can keep me out of there just by putting up a door and a desk? NO! I have climbing powers. One time I climbed on top of a truck just to say I can do this. One time I killed every zoo animal just to have a pile to climb. It's not my fault they put them in separate cages and I'm lazy. I wasn't even drunk that day...or was it night. I don't remember...all I remember is that the guy at the gate said, "Oh crap...I knew I shouldn't have left the oven on." True story. I think I had a point...oh yeah. The post office. I need to write them a letter. How do you address a letter to the post office, though? Do you use a stamp? I won't. What I'm going to do from now on is just write things on all the envelopes that I send...things like, "Fuck you," and "Return to sender," and my personal favorite, "Why don't you come outside you yellow-bellied douche-bags. I have a gun and it has enough bullets for each of your heads to have one. My bottle was full but it is empty because I wanted to be drunk so that I could shoot better." I think that one might be a little long, though. Maybe I'll write it on a package or something. 

Henry Rayker
¶ 11:13 PM

  Apparently I have been so drunk that this epic of drunken ramblings has gone forgotten and untapped for quite some time. I really doubt that anyone comes here. Recently, the S.W.A.T. team asked me to help them on a raid. They gave me all the gear and sent me in to gas a group of "unruly" hoboes. By "unruly," I actually mean sleeping. It was tear gas. I had a gas mask, but forgot to put it on. My eyes hurt so badly last night. After the whole gassing incident, the S.W.A.T. team accused me of stealing the equipment...which I guess was partially true. It wasn't really mine...then again, what really is? I don't think I own half of the liquor I consume. Most of it is given to me as a gift from children. I think they get other adults to buy it for them...but then they see how hopeless I look and decide that booze isn't the way...KAA-CHINGG!! This means free booze for me. I guess it's because I put on a good show or something. I can vomit at will. Not just any vomit...this vomit is gross...I kinda think I have a second stomach or something where I stock-pile all the good vomit.
I love Sea World. They make me feel right at home there. Everything indoors smells like vomit. Once, I passed out on the conveyor belt that goes past the penguin habitat. This little brat kicked me in the head until I woke up...so I just went to sleep on the benches designed for old people to sit on when their grand-children are so excited about the penguins that they won't leave the habitat. This old guy came up to me and asked me to move my feet...so I did. I respect my elders...because they are afraid of me. If I didn't respect them, it would be like i'm a bully. If I were a bully, the cops would come and hit me or something...or maybe the kids would stop giving me their booze. 

Henry Rayker
¶ 7:31 PM

  DAMN IT! I got arrested. I haven't been here for a long time. Actually, I was only in jail for a few hours...problem is, I was in and out like crazy. I got in on the second, left on the second. The fourth comes along and, being a drunk, you KNOW I am going to party like it's the turn of the centuryx10 all over again...except for the fact that I am not over one thousand years old. I bought a 4:3 ratio of liqour and fireworks. I spent nearly fourty thousand dollars...that's why I was in prison the first time by the way. Only, they thought I had stolen only twelve cars...fools. Thirteenth time is the charm I say. I wanted to be in Gone In 60 Seconds...so I wanted to steal a lot of cars...they caught me...I wanted to sell much much much more cars for many many many more dollars...for celebration...I'm good at heart. Well, so I has my booze and my explosion fodder, and I makes to the local animal shelter. My favorite is when they beg...that is the best. You hold the piece of food over their mouth and they stand on the back legs and hold the arm-legs tucked up...like a tyrannosaurus rex...my dog is too...self-centered to learn to beg...that's not the point. I wanted to free all of the little beg machines...so I rigged up lots of liqour into my booze hat...a slightly modified version of the beer hat...with the straw...only this one hold two fourty four gallon drums onto my head...with a lot of neck support...and a few wheels. Then I rigged up the explosives. They were all set to blow when I made a huge mistake...instead of lighting the fuse, I lit my pants. I screamed...the dogs barked...the fuse eventually got lit...but by that point, I was unconcious and the dogs were all at the doors. It looked like a fat man had regurgitated an entire whale, witnesses said. Every dog in the joint was blown to pieces. I was burned...although not severly...but...killing lots of dogs that someone MIGHT love is a major offense these days. Is there anything involving a 4:3 booze-firework ratio NOT illegal these days? 

Henry Rayker
¶ 8:22 AM

  There I was, crouching in the corner of my little cage. I couldn't remember how I got there or where there was, but one thing I did know was that there was a hungry lion in my cage with me. He wanted to rip me to shreds and tear my flesh from my bones and dine on the bloody carcass he would create from my body. I had to find a way to make him reconsider. My first idea, barter, did not work. I guess now I realize why that system stopped, if you are poor, like the Irish were back in the day, you have nothing to barter. Those Irish geniuses, however, decided to make pretty pictures to trade with...and their favorite color is blue...hence the "dollar". So, I was in my tank with the shark, not really knowing what to do, so I took out my mess kit and seved him a nice U.S. Army "ready to eat meal", thinking that the fat that americans reuire would slow him down. It just made him mad. I think he doesn't like M&Ms.
I don't really remember where this is going, so I am going to recite a poem.
There once was a lady from Venus, her body was shaped quite like a...hrrmmm...dumptruck? Ahh yes, I remember now. So all I really had to do was shout "RAPE!!!", and the five year old racist cowboy knew it was in its best interests to just leave me alone. I guess the claim that "the stop go stop" method of putting out a fire is better than the "stop drop and roll" method has been proven true once again. 

Henry Rayker
¶ 11:39 PM

  I was moving these people into their new home. I don't remember where I got the job. They had this huge truck. It took like 3 hours. They payed me fifty bucks and gave me a lot of food and drink...water and a tasty concoction of ham, cheese, egg and bacon all crammed inside of a croissant. I had three. The best part was the pay...they gave me fifty dollars...and they had like six boxes labeled "booze fragile"...I ran off with like...all of them. They will miss their fragile booze I think. I guess the part they will miss the most is the fact that the truck is still half full...and I crashed it...into a pond. By pond, I mean Niagra Falls. Hitch-hiking is hard...especially when your shirt is covered in blood. I knew I shouldn't have rolled around on that dead dog. Oh well...
My least favorite part about Niagra Falls is the way that the water is so loud...I drank two boxes of fragile booze on the way there...napped...then finished the drive with a hangover...the water made it worse...I think my favorite part is the way that the truck was washed away real fast. I love it when shit goes real fast. Well...not when it is my shit that I want. Once some guy stole my stereo from my home...and he ran real fast. I think he learned that from hunting gazelle or something. He robbed me fast...but I shot at him...too bad I was so drunk. The liquor was the only thing that gave me the idea to rob my neighbors. Do unto your neighbors what has been done unto you...I think I read that on a cereal box or something...maybe a little kid told me...I don't really remember things too well. The one thing I do remember though is helping these people move into their new house...they payed me...with entertainment, food, money , and fragile booze. NOT in that order. 

Henry Rayker
¶ 10:12 PM

  One day I was walking around the mall...I don't usually do that...because of the "no drunkard hobos" rule...but I did it this day. Believe me on this one. Son's of bitches...just because I am drunk doesn't mean that my stories are all bullshit. Assholes. I mean, just because I have a blood alcohol level that should be called an alcohol blood level doesn't mean that I can't tell a reasonable story...a reasonably true story at that. So, I was walking. This little kid looked up at me...I guess he wanted some whiskey...because that was my drink of choice for the day. Problem was that I had finished my last drop a few hours earlier. I did the only thing a reasonably thinking adult would do. I reached down my throat with my index finger and twanged at the hangy ball thing...you know, the one that makes you puke?...that one. I vomited all over the little boy. I must have really made his day, because he cried tears of joy at just that moment. Either joy or tears of "I have stomach acid all over my face and in my eyes and it i burning my retinas right now." I can never really tell. Point of this story is that the mall doesn't really like it when I try to return underpants. They have some sort of a "you pissed it, you bought it rule." Rediculous if you ask me. Damn it...I have to go back to the mall now...returning these is going to be hard... 

Henry Rayker
¶ 2:21 AM