AcmeShorts

You are sick. I can tell from looking at you. I don’t know what it is exactly. Maybe a slouch in the shoulders, bad breath, I don’t know. I can almost see the empty bottles of plastic antibiotics scattered around the dirty corners of your diseased panic like dollops of itch and rash. Does that make sense? You're rotting from the inside out. I don't know if that makes sense.

Even if I can’t explain it, I know it. It’s sort of like a special talent I have.

I can also tell when a woman has a stinky pussy. Something about the uncomfortable way she talks and holds herself, something about the shape of her buttock, the fat hanging over the top of her thigh. If you hold a flame to her fat it melts and drips sizzling down underneath all over her pussy. It creates a horrible stench. It’s awful. I can just tell from looking. Her pussy’s probably going to fall off and hit the ground with a splat.

Also, she laughs funny, kind of grating. I can just tell. I don't know. She should know it sounds terrible. And she isn’t even embarrassed. Can you believe that?