May 13, 2011

retarted pineapples

dear toe job diary,

the things people search for, i intend on delivering. is that what everyone wants? a toe job these days? i am on that. like sling on to a cling on- gimme what you got. but how does a pineapple become retarded. you all know i can not indulge in pineapple the way my carnal desires lure me. i must ignore them in the most harsh way, for if i ravish myself and feast upon the most gracious of all lovely of fruits- for me- there will be a price to pay. oh how i would love to hack the hard poky skin off to reach that delicate center, ahh yes, to sink my teeth into that plumpy middle and feel its juice release its splendor. how i love pineapple so, the texture in my teeth- the crunchy chewy feeling there- it is mystical bloodless meat. however, what a pineapple does to me, omg, no other fruit will do. not oranges, not pears, not peaches, (thank you Jesus) not bananas, not grapefruit, or kiwi (eww) or cantaloupe, or grapes, strawberries, watermelon, or apples either. pineapples make my butthole bleed and i mean drip drip drip, so i don't eat them much any more and if i do i sneak just one chunk and i eat it in the dark- in secret- so my eyeballs cant tell my asshole it is coming.