Oliver listens to the radio and smiles. There are a few hundred thoughts running through his head and his running nose is a waterfall if you zoom in really close with a good camera. Oliver is retarded. He's as special as a brown snowball. He's far gone and he's all alone.
Oliver's mom and dad love him, only they kind of forgot about him a few years ago. When Oliver speaks nobody really listens. Nothing he says makes any sense anyway. This morning Oliver woke up with a rash on his right testicle and all he could say was: I poke the woke in the upper choke of the underbolt.
Most of the words he uses he gets from the radio. The rest he got from his mom when he was seven. She doesn't speak to him anymore and he mostly just listens to the radio. His favorite song is every song they play. His favorite show is whatever's on. If someone were to put him on a desert island and he could bring one object, he would probably bring his toothbrush and miss his radio a heck of a lot. Retards aren't wicked smart. Retards are cute.
Oliver isn't cute. Instead he comes with an enormous tool. That's no secret. Oliver walking around in very tight pants made sure of that. The first time he exposed his tool was in a birthday party at a neighbour's house a few years ago. He had shit his pants and needed help in the bathroom. His friend's mother, Mrs Rawley, helped him. Oliver was 18 and his tool went stiff and Mrs Rawley couldn't help but spread her cunt and show Oliver how to use the tool.
Oliver listens to the radio and closes his eyes. They're playing a song they've played a million times before and Oliver's singing along. With his eyes closed, he grabs his tool and starts rubbing it with a moist towel. If his mom walks in on him, he won't blush. After all, he's retarded.
His mom doesn't walk in on him. She kind of forgot he existed. She loves him though. That's why she has to forget. It hurts too much. She has only one question and it starts with Why. There are no answers.
Oliver listens to the radio. His mom watches tv. His dad's probably up to something too. And before they all go to bed, they say their prayers of mass inhumanity, except for Oliver who just closes his eyes and kind of falls out of everything. After all, he's always out.
Every half hour a retard is born.
Oliver's mom and dad love him, only they kind of forgot about him a few years ago. When Oliver speaks nobody really listens. Nothing he says makes any sense anyway. This morning Oliver woke up with a rash on his right testicle and all he could say was: I poke the woke in the upper choke of the underbolt.
Most of the words he uses he gets from the radio. The rest he got from his mom when he was seven. She doesn't speak to him anymore and he mostly just listens to the radio. His favorite song is every song they play. His favorite show is whatever's on. If someone were to put him on a desert island and he could bring one object, he would probably bring his toothbrush and miss his radio a heck of a lot. Retards aren't wicked smart. Retards are cute.
Oliver isn't cute. Instead he comes with an enormous tool. That's no secret. Oliver walking around in very tight pants made sure of that. The first time he exposed his tool was in a birthday party at a neighbour's house a few years ago. He had shit his pants and needed help in the bathroom. His friend's mother, Mrs Rawley, helped him. Oliver was 18 and his tool went stiff and Mrs Rawley couldn't help but spread her cunt and show Oliver how to use the tool.
Oliver listens to the radio and closes his eyes. They're playing a song they've played a million times before and Oliver's singing along. With his eyes closed, he grabs his tool and starts rubbing it with a moist towel. If his mom walks in on him, he won't blush. After all, he's retarded.
His mom doesn't walk in on him. She kind of forgot he existed. She loves him though. That's why she has to forget. It hurts too much. She has only one question and it starts with Why. There are no answers.
Oliver listens to the radio. His mom watches tv. His dad's probably up to something too. And before they all go to bed, they say their prayers of mass inhumanity, except for Oliver who just closes his eyes and kind of falls out of everything. After all, he's always out.
Every half hour a retard is born.
VIEW 25 of 39 COMMENTS
now i"m so embarrassed
damn that drunk guy...always playing jokes on me & hiding my car...