Halloween night, Joe Rogan. 1983. North Bergen. I’m doing fawkin’ diamond push ups, ya know wit da tricep, gettin’ ready to go out with a coupla cootahs.
I’m on the way to meet one of these broads, Joe Rogan, and what do I see lurking in the cemetery behind a fawkin’ tombstone? A dude in a Scream mask, Joe Rogan. *obnoxious, sickly noise mimicking laughter spews forth* I swear to fawkin’ God, Joe Rogan. A fawkin’ guy in a Scream mask in 1983! *wheezes until beet red*
All I could think about at this point is doing a Gene Simmons on some mufflah, Joe Rogan! *Rogan shrieks like a chimp and slams his fat head against the desk* So I didn’t notice this fawkin’ guy was apparently following me for 6 blocks! 6 fawkin’ blocks, Joe Rogan!
I show up and meet these two chicks. One of them looks over my shoulder and says “hey, who’s your friend!” And I take a look and I shit you not Joe Rogan, there was nothing but a puff of smoke! This cocksucka was there and then he’s not there! It coulda been all dat banana bread though, Joe Rogan! *heart on verge of giving out*
So dere I am, Joe Rogan, laying down some wood on one if these broads while the other is playing with her monkey! I take a look over and what do I see? A guy in a robe and a Scream mask deep-dicking Brenda! swear ta fawkin’ God! He was working his hips in there like a fawkin’ doctah, Joe Rogan!
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