“I hate my wife and I want her to die,” slurred a severely drunk Momma to his newfound buddy Vinga Vadies at The Queen’s Cervix.
“Well, Momma, you should be single like me. I pick up girlies every night. Sometimes three, four, even five a night. Just fuck ‘em and leave ‘em.”
Momma gave Vinga a blank look. He definitely had the feeling that Vinga was lying to him. Momma knew Vinga was incapable of picking up several chicks in a night. He suspected that Vinga was, in fact, a virgin. Only three hours after meeting Vinga, he had ascertained that everything he said was utter bullshit. Suddenly the night’s entertainment came upon stage: “The Human Waterfall.”
After about thirty-seven seconds of watching, Momma stood up and threw his bottle of methylated spirits at the woman on stage, hitting her square in the forehead.
“You fucking fraud!” he screeched, “I seen an act which was exactly like this years ago. This is bloody pl... pl... pla...”
Momma struggled to get the words out in his intensely drunken state, “bloody plagiary.”
With blood pouring through the two-inch hole now in the woman’s forehead, Momma sat down and turned to the barman.
“Get me another fuckin’ metho and make it fuckin’ quick.”
Momma skulled the metho and turned to Vinga saying: “I was in a punk disco band once. We were big. Played in front of dozens of people and we were fucking good. The best! Well maybe not the best, but we were good. Or at least I think we were good. I was usually pretty fucked off my head and to be honest I rarely showed up to gigs and I could never be bothered practicing. We were, however, I can assure you... a band... I think.”
Momma promptly vomited over several of the nearby patrons, fell to the ground, ordered and downed another drink, vomited several times more, uttered the phrase: “I told you I was hardcore,” and died on the spot.
Inflict Kafe Gavani On The World
  
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