amber isnt happy

which means im not happy

and if im not happy i will go online and fight with strangers.

which doesnt make me happy because they never learn.

no one learns.

a long time ago i was writing all these short stories that i thought were great and one of my teachers said, morality plays are hundreds of years old and you cant teach any one any lessons

and on top of it, tony, youre terrible at teaching people things. and i got on my bicycle and i peddled my little bike around and

agreed with him.

and when i did i realized i was in the woods. and in any woods, as any boy knows, theres bound to be a playboy or a penthouse magazine either left behind by the Forrest Fairies or buried by some kid who wanted to read it later.

i found one of those magazines.

and i read it.

and in one of the articles it said something along the lines of “happy wife, happy life.”

amber is not my wife but she sure plays one on tv.

and she is not happy.

shes sad that the world is in kaos and outside is scary and everyones losing their jobs and her friends in hospitals are in danger

and we cannot believe the words coming out of our leaders mouths

and for some reason her bf is too busy to figure out what to say to ease her nerves.

i was working today and i heard her cry a little in the kitchen.

the Playboy Advisor would have said, fix that problem no matter how.

so i ran in there, opened my wallet and started whipping quarters and dimes at her.

WTF ARE YOU DOING she yelled as a penny nearly chipped her tooth.

throwing money at problems usually solves problems dont it?

she laughed so loudly the cats were spooked.

and then she made me lunch.

moral of the story: read more porn