7 Things

I have a wish list. I am so not contented with my life therefore the dire need for these 7 things. When I looked around me and saw so many people faking their happiness my uni-brow shaved itself. Happiness is overrated that I assure you.

I should get down to business about the 7 things I want.

1) Miley Cirus' head. She's ugly, she can't sing like Celine, Mariah, Christina and Morissette. Her voice is like a kitten dying to give birth and take a detour into adulthood. She's hell ugly. Seriously, what kind of hell spawn can be let out in the open and bask in the shallowness of celebrity. She's freaking 16, she doesn't even know what office politics mean neither does she know what semi breve mean. Charice is the true talent, I bet Miley will just shrivel up when she hears Charice. Bye Miley.

2) Plastic Surgery. I swear my boobs are growing bigger every time I see them. I am blind chest down.

3) Plastic Surgery. A huge belly only looked good on Juno.

4) Underwear with built in air conditioning. It's friggin hot. Wear briefs and get the itch, it's like a beehive with bad rashes on your dick and feeling like that, won't you naturally scratch yourself silly in full display of public affection? Wear boxers and it will curl up your thigh, caress your balls, turn itself into briefs and make walking a nightmare. Trunks are too tight, men who use trunks as underwear can forget buying condoms. Save sex is perpetuated. And no, walking around with wedgie delight is not fun and games.

5) Flair. Grace. Panache. Elegance. Charm.

6) Sex. I need sex. My can is still unopened. Don't ask me to look into the mirror because even ugly Miley can have sex. At least a delicious French with a hot partner... Thats probably desperation rearing it's misguided head.

7) Get back to being a good christian boy. Come on, I need at least 1 pious wish to placate all the fuming prudes reading this right...