10th Level Warrior (use with joystick controllers)
Every time you try to balance a beach ball on your tongue. Every time phantom power massages ointment in the happy bits. The bloated weasel carcass of James Dean's puss filled bladder still doubles as something interesting in the 21st century. If you must fist your way through the finest carnivals that the crucifix has to offer, then go ahead. Get yourself a law firm and stay the ♥♥♥♥ away from me. But if you like to write poetry, go into your basement. If you don't have a basement, find a garage, if there is no garage, shove a feather in your eye. It doesn't matter. Get a bucket, carry that bucket proudly. Find a sandbox, where kids ♥♥♥♥, piss, jack-off, and play. Fill that bucket with mud, glorious mud. Bring the bucket inside your home and set it on the kitchen table. Bring your family outside, from inside the suitcase. Soothe their lips with beeswax. Dip a comb into the bucket, if there is no comb, use your ribs. If your ribs are sore, and the past is thick between them, and your chest cavity feels like a broom closet, filled with the unsettled dust of the last great commotion. Then imagine your heart is the belly of a yak! Crawl inside that yak, and ZAAAAAAAAAA!!!!