Analysis of THE GRIM REAPER AND I HAVING A TEA PARTY

Today marks the third anniversary since the grim fucking Reaper came with a sickle and book of names knocking on my door not once but two damn times, I tell you, good people, so today, to mark the day, I sent the poor chap an invite to for a tea party.

I put a lot of thought and consideration into this to invite Mr grim Reaper man has the face of a stone killer, not a regular serial killer like Snap, Crackle Pop, or Captain Crunch. Still, on 10/12/20/2020, he did not know I did not realize I ate a whole damn aisle of store brand lucky charms, a message to the collective on how to cheat death and keep big box companies in the business because everyone is online.

We both sat down and shot the shit, and he kept on asking how do you keep on out running? You never played any sports as a kid. All you ever did was write your poetry and listen to the dead, I said, ding ding Jerry as a message, and it noted always be quicker than the wind.

The grim reaper and I continued with our tea party. We had a cake dressed in black. What a surprise he had a damn pink unicorn with a purple horn, a little off-color, I would say, but Kallie, my dog, and he had fun, and once again, I lived to see another day.