A Message From Pickle

First of all, f%*# you Joel.  My laptop is worth more than your LIFE.  I hope you had time to take a look around - there's porn on there you could NEVER understand.  I could turn you gay and back again with a few clicks of the mouse.  I have that power. 

Anyway, yes, you found a picture that says "Pickle 2012."  Bravo.  Now you know about my closet life as an amateur photoshop artist.  And despite what you think the picture implies, it means nothing.

And by nothing, I mean the end of days.


That's right, mother&#$*@#s.  Pickle 2012.  I am seeking the GOP nomination for President of the United States.  And if you don't like it, f$*# you.  You won't survive the first three weeks of my Administration, anyway.

Obama ran on a campaign of "Hope" and "Change."  "Hope" is for pussies.  "Change" is the bus fare I gave your mom after she tried cuddling with me last night.

My campaign will consist of you, voting for me, or else.


Get on board.  Or get to work on your Last Will and Testament.

The Adventures of Pickle

Aside from my better-known interests (sex, drugs, trance music, more drugs, anarchy, biting cops, general violence, selling drugs, stealing the drugs back after I've sold them, sleeping 18 hours a day, interspecies intercourse, hunting endangered species, hunting human, hunting p***y, interior design), I am a budding author.  More specifically, I write children's books.  Now, before you all get your panties in a bunch (assuming you wear them, which I don't), I keep my writing completely separate from my personal life.

Well, for the most part.

Click the link below to see my first book, The Adventures of Pickle.  Enjoy!

The Adventures of Pickle

Re: Goddesses, Winning?

Joel,

I'm a little offended.  Kim Kardashian is one thing, but you should know not to believe everything those paparazzi bastards print about me.  Here's how it really went down:

I just got done working my Kobe shift and needed to blow off some steam.  I went to a party at the house of an unnamed star of the hit television show CSI: Miami.  I was sitting on that couch minding my own business, chewing on a delicious piece of dried bull penis (What? I'm a dog.).  Somehow Sheen and those bimbos caught wind of the raging party and crashed it.  They sat down long enough for that a-hole to snap a picture before I bolted.  I mean, the smell of those people alone is enough to gag a mule.  I chased the guy around the party for a little while trying to grab the camera but all I managed to do was take a chunk out of his ankle.  Honestly, I was about 4 hits of acid in so half the time I thought I was chasing a turquoise spider monkey around.

These are my goddesses and I always win.  Don't you forget it.

Re: The Ladies Man

Hey Joel,

You know what's more common than Kim Kardashian texting me for a booty call?  Two bitches fighting over who who gets to have breakfast with me after a three-way.  But seriously, Kim loves me.  I guess I'm her type (black and freakishly athletic).

Shout Out To My Bitches

What up bitches?  There's plenty of room for you in my bed.  Bring your friends.  But after we're done, you gotta go.