• Fat a**'s Last Dance With Mr. Potato Chip

    One minute you are born
    Blink and your at puberty
    Breath and you are dying
    Before you know it
    You are an old fart
    Sitting in front of your television
    A bag of potato chips
    Your only companion
    Watching the snow on the screen
    Thinking 'God, I love reruns'
    You reach into a bag of rotten spuds
    As you swallow the chip
    Your stomach gurgling loudly
    As it dances down your throat
    To meet its brothers
    Clutching violently at your neck
    You gasp for air
    Falling to the floor
    The last vibrations of
    Your last breath
    Rippling through your fat a**
    Before the lights dim.....
    And finally....
    Go out