Sup turds.

I’m sitting here right now, dropping a deuce–taking a dump and I hear American Idol on the television right now. I keep hearing that megaturd Ryan Seacrest talking. What an asskiss, bro. Tacoturd supreme… $0.99 superspecial. If I wasn’t shitting a manly log right now, I’d be throwing up. It’s the same thing every time I see him on tv. He has pre-canned little cutesy lines that would surely buy him a fucking superwedgie up here in Yukon, bro. He also talks back to evil Simon all the time, which is a major no, dude. Back when I was trying out for American Idol, after winning Canadian Idol, he tried talking to me… and at first I pretended not to hear him… but he insisted, bro. So I turned and said nothing… Then did a lethal roundhouse kick and stopped midair, just near his ear. He could hear the wind from the pure speed of my kick. Then, while he was shivering, I said, “Sup turd?” and he peed his pants and ran off crying.

The end.

L8r -Ken