Just listen to the sound of it.
If my penis was a musical instrument played by the perky mouths of angelic virgins , that's what it would sound like .
I don't know what it is exactly that I love about Friday so much, but I do know it bares some proportional correlation to how much exactly I totally hate the rest of the week. I'm a liberal minded , caring sort of guy , but if Monday through Thursday were Jewish ...I'd applaud the holocaust.
Friday is the day that I stride into work at least 5 minutes early. Whenever I do this I can never help but expect applause for my diligence. It's never forthcoming but I hardly let that dampen my spirit. Friday is the day my fellow co workers can expect to receive some light hearted banter from me laced in a general cheerful demeanor.
Oh how happy I am on Fridays. The promise of the weekend , although a mere few shorts days , they whisper to me of sweet debauchery and cathartic freedoms. Of feet dipped into forbidden pools of alcohol laced with lust. Of sleep so deep and long that dreams can morph into dreams of dreams. Sweet , sweet Friday.
Today is such a day. Already I have planned a weekend of drinking with little filippino girls in a town called Songtan , with hearts as big as their disproportionably huge chests. Oh how they'll laugh at my jokes and point out my far too unfrequently heralded handsomeness. Then when recovered , followed up with a day of frollocking in the newly warmed Son , tennis racquest in hand and then...behold....Seoul ...lest you forget we shall meet again ! We have business to finish , you and me !
You smudged neon lipsticked, bitch of a town !