The Viv’s Sonofabitchin’ Soulmate: The Winnebago Man
Posted August 1, 2010on:
Were The Viv to have met this big, dumb sonofabitch instead of The Dingus, she and this fucker would’a wed.
They would’a fuckin’ written their own fuckin’ wedding vows.
But then they would’a fuckin’ forgotten their own fuckin’ lines and fucked up the whole fuckin’ thing.
Fuckin’ Tony would’a been the fuckin’ minister, and you can goddam bet it would’a been really fuckin’ hot that day, and there would’a been no bullshit or fuckin’ yelling allowed — even by the fuckin’ wedding couple, for fuck’s sake.
After the fuckin’ wedding, the fuckin’ Viv and her fuckin’ goddam groom would’a fuckin’ driven off in their state-of-the-fuckin’-art MinnieWinnie.
At the fuckin’ twenty-year-juncture of their fuckin’ marriage — when their brains were for shit and the shit hit the fan– they’d’ve had to fuckin’ call that sonofabitch Tony to throw in the fuckin’ towel, once and for fuckin’ all, slammin’ the door on their fuckin’ marriage.
The Winnebago Man would end up a god-damned hermit livin’ in some fuckin’ mountain cabin with a fuckin’ pit bull named after the fuckin’ Bhudda.