Dr. Sucio Sanchez has me involved with some experimental therapies aimed at helping me quit crack. For a while, he had me pay a little person to junk-punch me every time I touched a pipe. That was working until I spiked the little fuckers afternoon coffee with mescaline and convinced him to join a travelling carnival.
Now, I'm supposed to watch this video any time I get the itch. Theory goes, seeing what a douche Bobby is will infiltrate my thoughts on the subconcious level and make me not want to smoke crack. So far so good, except I now have an over-powering urge to slap the shit out of Whitney Houston while wearing bike shorts and red tube socks. Progress.
Boner,
J-Stache
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