"Guess what? Frank Vincent lived SEVEN WHOLE YEARS after making contact with my yeasty body and seeing my stupid pumpkin-like face. Imagine that!
"You'd think he would've been bored to death just hearing ONE FUCKING WORD from a useless librarian drone like me. Some dull-witted fag-virgin jackass."
"If you'd like to see more pictures of my cantaloupe-like head and my yellow-toothed grimace, Christ, they are ALL over the place. I pose the same way all the time. Frank looks like he and I are good friends. He was very friendly with my $20 Bill.
"In fact, that's what you could call me. $20 Bill. That's how I impress people. I PAY THEM. Because otherwise, well look at me. I'm a vacant-faced dumb-ass goofus goon. I am a total fucking waste of space. New York should not allow me to commute into town from New Jersey. Maybe the next time there's a fucking train wreck, I'll be part of it, and other than my extremely ugly sister, NOBODY will give a rat's ass.
"Lastly, guess what. I'm on Rotten Tomatoes! No, ROTTEN TOMATOES don't refer to my balls. It's a website where idiotic self-important geek-jackasses give their worthless opinions on the latest movies. Oh my LORD, I went to see MOTHER. I thought maybe it was about my MOTHER, the one who turned me off women for life.
"If you go on the site, and scroll through OVER ONE HUNDRED PAGES OF ASSHOLES blabbering about a fucking MOVIE, you might find MINE. Did I like it? Did I hate it? Am I too boring to even masturbate? Why am I alive? To give $20 to has-beens so they can pose with me! SEVEN YEARS later, the infection from shaking my hand finally led to Vincent's death. Oh well. Be very worried, Louise Lasser!"
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