My brother in law bought a shitty AR and every time he went to the range it fucked up in a new and unimpressive way. He was so distraught and started questioning why he bought a gun in the first place so I shared a story with him.

A long time ago I used to mix heroin and Molly before I’d go get shit faced at the bar. I always found that combination to be a real mother fucker and allowed me to get my swerve on without the fear of a jealous boyfriend or the guilt of giving some bitch an std. If heroin makes the world a canvas, Molly makes my dick the paintbrush.

Anyway, I’m at the bar one night high, drunk as fuck, and looking for love. In walks a bitch that would’ve been taken down by ivory poachers if she lived in Africa. You know how even a fat girl has a redeeming quality like a cute face or takes it in the ass? Well, she had none of those but the bar was emptying out at a rather rapid pace and if you know me, you know my motto. “Pussy you ain’t taking is pussy you ain’t getting.” 20 minutes later I had this hambeast in the back of a 1989 Astro cargo van and used her panties to cover the windows. I treated that whore like a Wonkavator and fucked her upways and downways, crossways and aroundways. So many smells violated my olfactory senses but the Molly pushed me to the finish line.

The next day I was so disgusted with myself I swore I’d never touch another drug, drop of alcohol, or a woman over 118 lbs. Guess what? 3 days later I fucked that same bitch in the same van.

The moral of the story is you bought it, you own it. Don’t let a Del Ton or a woman with 94 pound tits give you buyer’s remorse.