King Bloggah's Beatdown Update

I will go on record stating that of course I’m against hitting women. In any form. But sometimes shit happens, like last week on Tillary Street when Andrew and Jen as in TravelingwithAndrewandJean showed up for their fucking beatdown. Me being a gentleman, I figured I’d quickly vanquish “Andrew” with a few roundhouse kicks and headpunch paradiddles and be face deep in my bacon egg and cheese croissants within about 30 seconds. Obviously this beatdown didn't take long at all, and as I was slipping out of my judo slippers all of a sudden I felt someone jump on my fucking back. I was confused for a split second but once I felt the hardened points, excited flesh that could only be the aroused nipples of a woman driven to orgiastic heights of insanity by the mere thought of slooooowly unziupping my 501s as I whisper the words to "Angel of the Morning" into her eyes, pressing into my back as well as a swampy warmth lower on my back that can only be described as “howling for some Vitamin Xmas” I quickly knew what was happening – after watching me driving her “man” into the ground as if squashing a bug, Jen was out of her mind aroused and wanted to give her spoils to the victor, as they say.

Then she clawed at my eyeballs. Which is NOT sexy. After biting me on the back of the head I realized holy shit, this bitch wasn’t horny, she was pissed! Which is usually the same thing, I thought. I didn’t wanna fight a girl, so I shrugged her off my back, shedding her like skin. Or a used rubber. (Used by me, obviously. Probably after a threesome) She lay on the ground, crying and shaking while I quietly slipped on my windbreaker and bid everyone that had gathered adieu.

Then I said “fuck it” and kicked her in her jaw, snapping her head back and shattering her eye socket. Fare thee well, Andrew and Jen. Have fun putting all your stupid pictures of rocks in a scrapbook, cause guess where you WON'T be putting them anymore?

That’s right. The internet.

Next up? Shedworking. Which mysteriously sounds like “woodshedding,” as in what this asshole will be getting. Tomorrow morning, 38 Tillary Street.

MISSION STATEMENT HERE.