Let me run you through a little trip to Bank. I start to walk my poor ridiculous ass home, and Mr Forand stops me to tell me that there is a cheque waiting for me at the main office of the school. With out hesitation I decide that I am going to run and catch up to Adam and tell him that the cheques are in. When I finally caught up to him, I remembered he didn't work the festival with me so that was a waste of my precious sledding reserved energy. Since Adam is such a nice guy, he said he would walk to the office with me. Upon my arrival at the office I ran into Mr, Fagass Tailor who didn't have the balls or courage to say anything about me missing his shitty faggot class for the last few days. I got my cheque and headed to the Bank. “There is no way that all these old dying wrinkly hags could possibly have money to withdraw.” I could only hope that they were getting money out for their funerals, or a gun. I wait in the aroma of death for like 20 minutes and of coarse when my turn came, the bitch fucking closed her till. The only two bitches left were just a useless as the closed till. One was talking to some white trash mullet rocking whore about some family shit and how to make it as legal as possible. IF ITS LEGAL THEN ITS LEGAL NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I SHIT ON ONE OF THESE OLD USELESS BAGS. The other one was deaf. What makes it worse is that all of the skeleton hoes where trying to make small talk and dumb jokes to her and she couldn't lip read through their disgusting wrinkles. I hate when assholes bring their little piece of shit kids into bank and all they do is shit their pants and cry and wine. Plus they eat all the fucking free timbits that are for the clients only. Little fuckers. Well everything about the bank is bad, minus that glorious moment when they hand you money.


















fuck fuck shit poo ass fuck shit dick fucking fuck ass poo penis nignog dang