Again, no time. I'm on a bus moving too slow. People keep pulling the cord to signal the driver to stop. Something's upset my stomach. I've been a lean, mean, green diarrhea machine all day. No, really, it was green. Once I get home I'll need to hurriedly pack things into a bag and be on my way. I'm not even sure where we are going, I just know it's soon. We were supposed to leave very early in the morning, before the chumps, but we've really outdone ourselves this time. We're leaving now. We'll be there before the wolves step out into the moonlight. I think the moon is almost full actually, but I might be bullshitting. My stool is so wet I'm birdshitting, too. Stool. Should I bring one of those? What will we need it for in the woods? To put Q in the corner maybe.
When will I eat dinner? Beer. We'll need lots of it. Water, too. Where will we find fireworks? Would Smokey The Bear approve? Well, if he didn't, it might get people thinking he was unAmerican. I can see that fucking Commie look on his face right now. Why does he have that shovel? Only murderous Muslim terrorist scum would need a shovel - to bury the bodies of dead patriots and heroes. I have 2nd Amendment rights, bucko; I'm going to get me some big ole bear arms. And after, some toilet paper.
Now where did I put my negligee?
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