An inedible stew of visual lunacy much of which I concocted with my own three hands.
As Bascom finished wrestling his Id, and resurfaced, the smell of soggy sneakers permeated the air. "Almost getting choked out underwater by a giant Anaconda gets me harder then a double dose of Viagra and Jack and free Hunchback porn on the satellite TV", he exclaimed between choked gasps for oxygen.
Ahh, the metaphorical battle between snake and Id. Underwater no doubt. Freud, would say, according to my training, that you subconsciously desire a mermaid who in accordance with the Chuck Taylor hightops - can slam dunk a basketball.
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