You know, once I had to interview this wheelchair-bound badass for my newspaper job:

The guy was cool and all, but fuck, now I have to worry about having AIDS because the motherfucker breathed on me. Fuck, I even shook his hand! If this photo above was taken before the interview last year, I definitely have the HIV virus. No doubt about it. There is no way I’m not AIDS-ridden. I mean jesus, look how close the guy is to Trishelle — the walking, talking AIDS-case! And he even has his tongue out?

Did he just straight up ask her if he could have some of her delicious AIDS? “Hello Trishelle, you fine looking slutwagon you. Hmmm … I’ve always wondered about your name, ‘Trishelle’. Was your father Irish and your mother White Trash, or was it the other way around? Oh, by the way, would you mind if I tasted your HIV Virus? Oh goodie! Cheerio!”

Motherfucker, it was bad enough having to worry about contracting “crippled” from the guy, but now I have this AIDS spectre to fucking haunt my dreams at night.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 28th, 2007 at 8:21 pm and is filed under Trishelle. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.