There's only so much a man can write in a day

Luckily, I'm a type of God so there's no need to group me in there. Although I'll accept the title if it's all that's going.

The French worry me. They express love in a way that...is not. For our cynical minds to comprehend, I'll use a metaphor.

Yoghurt. I like it. Although I often see it there, I do not always eat it. I haven't had any in time longer than I can remember.

Doner Kebabs. I crave them. I'll break into sweats just thinking of them. No matter where I am, I soon find the rush of hunger. A craving. I need it, something. Just one more. Even if it's destroying me.

The yoghurt represents someone who you unconditionally love. Maybe a family member or a best friend. Nothing weird. Just a feeling of appreciation.
The kebab is love.

Now. Put the yoghurt into the kebab bread.

I think you'll find that's where the term "Inbred" derives. Thanks France. You've given us much enjoyment. Now let us please continue to be uptight about our sexuality and never get any action.

If this makes sense in the morning, it means I'm drunk.











Your life.

End it.