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Chuck Spasnowski, a warlock out of Queens, choked down some Sanka and kissed his stupid wife goodbye.
He merged beautiful onto the BQE and thought about the Somalian kid he’d adopted last night on television. How was that little fucker supposed to live on 52 cents a day, anyway? Chuck hoped he didn’t have to write back to him when the kid mailed him his letter of scraping gratitude.
Chuck had lots of other stuff on his mind, too, not least of which was those new spells he had to remember for tonight’s coven. Those cunts who headed up the Queens County chapter weren’t even hot. He found it nearly impossible to masturbate about them without changing their faces and weight in his mind’s eye.
Since none of that negative shit got him anywhere though, Chuck went over some of the zingers he could’ve used on Jerry Springer when he disrespected Satan.
Date Written: March 30, 2002
Author: qualcomm
Average Vote: 3.3333