Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Some Medical Advice From Peter Shapiro

peter shapiro drunk

“AWWWWW. Didja hurt yer footie-wootie?”

I don’t need your help.

“Poor widdle baby. You should…you should…fuck it, do whatcha want.”

Peter, I–

“WOOOOOO!”

–truly do not need–

“WOO!”

–your help.

“Iss a party.”

I see that.

“Yer a pussy an’ lemme tell ya why.”

Please don’t.

“Iss becuz…iss becuz…ah, fuck it: c’mere an’ lemme pour some booze on it.”

No, I would prefer ifYAAAAAAAAAAHMOTHERFUCKER!

“Thass the way men do it.”

It is not! It’s not the way anyone does it! It’s a burn, not a cut! And even if it were a cut, humanity has progressed beyond using whiskey as an antiseptic!

“Ahh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…I’m…I’m sorry. I’ll make it up ta ya. Le’s you an’ me go smoke a doobie, you an’ me.”

Yeah, okay, I guess.

“I got Josh Meyers’ phone number. We c’n prank him.”

Lead the way, Shappy.

“Don’ call me that.”

1 Comment

  1. I made this a while ago because I want to be banned from all of Mr.Shapiro’s fine establishments…..and I may have lost my mind.

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