Troubadours, V

Sadly, I'm no longer undefeated. I wouldn't care, except the person I lost to has neither skill nor balls. I decline to mention his name directly, lest he get an even bigger head than he already has. This week, in spite of Rob's moral agenda against reading this blog, here's a little tune set to Freddy Fender's Wasted Days and Wasted Nights. Fuck all of you.

Though you're too gay to read this
Your mouth too full of piss
Sitting outside on your porch
Taking a bone from your own dog.

How is Otis at loving you
Does he tease you till you're blue
Do you see after you came
That I'm not to blame
For making you lose.

Don't you remember the game
That we had to play for the title?
I played so poorly
But now I'm gonna own ye
You bitch....

[repeat the second verse until you can't stand the thought of Rob fucking his dog]