This Year I’m Thankful for Mike Gatto

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I’m going to get superfuckeduphammered drunk.  So while I can still type, I thought it would be a good idea to briefly reflect on all that I am thankful for this year.  But the sad truth is, there ain’t much.

Ebola and Republicans dominated the news.  Axl Rose just keeps getting fatter and still won’t reunite with Slash.  Meanwhile, Slash keeps making shitty solo albums that fucking suck.  I bought a Micro-G Pen from Grenco Sciences, and it fucking broke because it was shitty and sucked.

And what’s up with the dollar menus at fast food places?  You can’t get shit for a dollar anymore.  So now it’s a “Value Menu.”  Fuck that.  You know what’s a value?  Paying a dollar for a shitty cheeseburger.  Paying $1.89 is a slap in the face.  Fuck Taco Bell and KFC too.  That shit is outrageously overpriced now.

So basically, everything sucks except Mike Gatto.  He is a sweet dude with a giant horse cock who doesn’t take shit from anybody — not some punkass state senator, not Azerbaijan, not Nathan J. Winograd, not Todd Royal or Abu al-Bakr Baghdadi, and sure as fuck not “Bukkake” Ron Kaye.

So when I eat a bunch of food and drink until I puke it all back up again, I will do so in honor of the one and only thing for which I am genuinely thankful this year:  Mike Gatto, the dude with the imperious sneer, the horse cock and the mighty nutsack of sweetness.



About Jarvis Mitchell

author, politico, collector of pens
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