dabswithflags-blog

[dabswithflags-blog]

The Right to Bear Arms

At a rave

Going hard

Fistbumping to that electric guitar

Wait a sec

Something's wrong

My hands flew off

I went too hard

There's only stubs on the end of my arms. I'm crying now. Full grown man sobbing on the grimy liqueur smothered floor. I curl up in a ball and hug my legs, asking what in life I did to deserve losing my arms. I think back to 5th grade when I took Cindy Johnson's cool new Nike shoes and called her a whore. That's it, that's why my arms are gone. I come to terms with my fate, someone up there is punishing me for being a dick. I stop crying and everyone is staring at me, I am an ugly crier. Someone reaches down and asks if I need a hand. I look him directly in the eye. I make uncomfortable eye contact for at least 30 seconds. Then I start sobbing uncontrollably because I remember I no longer have hands. Why did I have to be such a dick to poor Cindy Johnson? Why did I have to be punished for this one mistake? I pray to God, in fact, I pray to every god out there for forgiveness Allah, Vishnu, Yahweh, the Geico Gecco, Buddha, Zeus. I keep sobbing until I pass out from exhaustion.

I wake up in an alley next to a homeless man. All my clothes are gone. I am sad because I was wearing my new jacket that night and I had a joint in my left pocket.  Suddenly I get a fat whif of the nearby garbage can and have to sneeze. I double over burying my face into the crook of my elbow out of habit. I realize…MY ARMS ARE BACK.

This is the story of a one day amputee

He was a douche bag and thought he  saw his arms flee

Now they're back, it's super sick

But this jerk off is still a dick

Don't do acid kids.