Before you read this blog, please note this is the most recent picture of me. Notice my body. I am a animal.
A couple weeks ago I went back to Florida for a few days of sun, fun and to fuck my boyfriend Garrett in the ass (Not True). After the many months we spent away from each other we were both giddy at the thought of bumping chest and holding hands (This is a joke). I could see his him licking his chapped lips as I pulled up in the driveway. I smiled, he threw up a peace sign and tried spitting in the grass. The spit got stuck to his chin and just dripped down his neck. He knew I’d massage it in later, and decided to let the spittle soak down his neck hair (True). The vacation was starting out just like I imagined it would.
We spent most of the trip writing rap songs about fat girls, ghost, and large black men. It was just another normal day, until we decided to have a break dance battle. He’s a skilled krump dancer, going by the name of ‘Tornado Terrence Howard’. I on the other hand, ‘Sheik Your Booty’, specialize in shimmies, shakes, and Spanish line dancing. It was going to be a good one, especially since last time we battled six children and eleven puppies died. We moved his moms Cadillac and used the garage as our dancing death pit. We were both in the zone. He was shaving his armpits with a piece of glass while I stuck razor blades in my face. We might be lovers, but right then and there we were sworn enemies both willing to choke and eat the other opponent (I’d start with his toes).
After warming up to a couple great Fat Joe songs we turned up the heat (This battle was on fire). Just as a really wild Nelly song came on Garrett (Tornado Terrence Howard) attempted an Upside Down Ankle Rub…he pulled it off and didn’t even throw up. I had to respond with something fierce. I started with a Spanish Frisbee, turned it into a Hairy Housewife and then I hit him with a little something called the Stinky Carrot (This is the famous move Marcus Huston died trying to attempting). I pulled it off. Alive, I pointed to the sky and thanked Harriett Tubman. Garrett’s jaw dropped. He knew how dangerous this was, and started yelling, “Why would you do that? You fucking jerk! What if…Oh my god…what if something happened to you? Why would you risk that? You’re such a prick! I’m so mad. You’re just such a f-ing jerk GOD!”. He started crying. I went and got him some ice cold cola in hopes of cooling down his wild temper. It worked. I dried his tears with my tongue. We love each other. But that’s also when he took off his shirt.
When I moved to New York Garrett’s skin was a shade of earl grey, maybe a light vomit green. The skin on his body hung low like horse dicks and he spent most of his time eating cheese and watching bubbly TV sitcoms. This wasn’t the toned, tanned, piece of Shark meat I was currently gawking at. Had he gotten plastic surgery, replacing his old body with one of a early Channing Tatum? What had become of these arms? They looked so dangerous. Had asteroid carried these to him from Superman? When I mentioned something about the chiseled pieces of man beef he called arms, he only laughed and said, “What, these old things?” Yes those things! They resembled freshly poured concrete, the second he was to flex they would undoubtedly exploded into steel and barb wire. He noticed my new found fascination with his upper torso and mention to it by saying, “Stop sweating my hot bod. Maybe if you didn’t shovel snow all day in New York you’d have a Ox like shoulders like me”. Assuming he was joking I laughed, “Yeah, you’re right”. He pushed me. Teary eyed, I fell to the floor. “Why did you do that?” He smiled, kissed his massive arms, and blew some snot at me. Shivering in fear I did not know why this just happened? Had the beast just challenged his trainer? Did the Wolf just bite the Sheep? Did the boy just finger that Cat (OMG as I’m typing this I just saw some weird little Asian boy finger a Cat in a alley. I am typing this in a alley). Why would he do this? What about the life we imagined together, living under the stars, sleeping in hammocks, kidnapping children. Had all this meant nothing now that his arms weighed as much as a small Bear? This was the Bee that stung the Lizards dick! I was hurt…and I was MAD!!
Garrett is my partner in crime. The yin to my yang. The penis to my face. BUT nobody tosses me around like a little gay boy. Even the smallest Lamb carries a butchers knife. It was right then and there that I vowed to get big enough to fight and kill him…with a sword. Happily, twenty eight days later, I am blogging as ripped as a race Horse. Since my immediate flight back to New York I have ate nothing but Lion legs, muscle pies, and washing machines. I am a beast…a hungry beast…hungry for you Garrett Levin. Let it be known to the world, I AM AT WAR WITH YOU. We are enemies. You are Tom Cruise and I am modern science. Blood in blood out. I’m going to find you. You’re not safe anywhere. Even if you went to jail I would find you there and rape you. GROWLLLLLL!!!! Beware cause this beast is WILDDDDDD!!!!
Growling,
Daniel Dickey
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