Are you the one... Mr. Boots??

I can feel it, crawling up my spine like a large spider. My gut tells me to turn around, but my brain won't compute. I push closer to the cold, begging for a conflict with Mr. Boots. Boots is notorious for making strong, burly men run scared and scream like a guy with a vagina. Ask this douche: Zak

I need to get in shape. My Under Armor is still too tight, even for Under Armor, and until I'm in peak physical form, I can't go ghost hunting with my WalMart shades and self-painted belt buckle.

Back to Boots....

Mr. Boots was made for walking, and that's what the fuck he does. The next time you come in Mr. Boot's cave he's putting a boot into rectum. Mr. Boots could care less if your raging from your steroids, he just wants to rip out your soul and devour it while you slowly grow cold and die. Mr. Boots attacks at will, regardless of sexual orientation, race or religious preference. His only goal is to remove your spirit and consume your soul like a Hungry Man dinner.

Mmmmm.... Popcorn chicken. 

This show should be canceled, if not for the fugazi-ness, at least because it's corny as fuck. 

Next topic: None.

Good fucking night...

assholes...

Peace be with you.

Sigh Oh Nar uhh