Surprisingly, none accepted.  I bloody mother fucking asshole kevin foster (iii)
shakur, cds, feature film action/adventure, naming tools, sam mendes, harbinger productions, kevin foster (iii), larry charles, new imperialism, ecards, rap midis, skins, films, songs, discussion forum, scholar, This lasted for over an hour.  Also, it was probably about 3:30 in the morning when this was happening.  I’m guessing that I probably shouldn’t tell bloody mother fucking asshole this story on a first date, but I’m trying to give you a little insight into the mind and life of a really, really, really bad writer.  You’re welcome.   But I’m back in NYC to the comfort and safety of my apartment.  I missed the little things about my life here in NYC: the way my heat in my apartment only turns on after midnight and then makes the bloody mother fucking asshole room temperature rise very quickly to bloody mother fucking asshole about 85 degrees, causing my body to go into shock; the thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people on the streets in my neighborhood who are determined to walk very slowly in front of me, stopping suddenly for unknown reasons so I can walk into their backs; the way a sandwich and a gatorade costs $11; the fried chicken wing/rotting garbage smell that permeates my neighborhood even though it’s 15 degrees out; my 8×10 bedroom, filled with stuff I haven’t even unpacked from
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Surprisingly, none accepted.  I suppose I shouldn’t send messages with subjects like “I WANT TO TASTTE [sic] YOUR HEINIE” and “MY kevin foster (iii) BIRD IS YOURS TONITE”.]    But I kevin foster (iii) did learn one thing for sure: you’re never too depressed to drink alone.  I’ll get into this later, but writing humor - when you are being paid to do so and people are waiting for your product to kevin foster (iii) judge it - is a very daunting task.  Not only that, it can’t be forced.  Either it comes, or it doesn’t.  And when it doesn’t, you’d better watch out.    I didn’t have much to do, so I just drank beer and ate a lot.  Then I’d try to write and get bummed out when it didn’t come to me.  Then I’d get drunker.  And then I’d get sadder.  At one point, I was so depressed that I was laying on the bathroom floor with no pants on (though wearing a t-shirt and socks) as the shower ran while I played Monopoly on my cell phone. 
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