Fate ain’t nothin but the name of an ugly ass stripper

Dear Murray

Do you believe in fate? Do you believe that things are out of our control, and no matter what we do, we can never avoid our destiny?

Christ, they’ve just gone straight to mainlining the fuckin patchouli these days, haven’t they? Here’s the thing about fate: it’s only as good as the motherfuckers in charge of controlling it. There’s a whole bunch of people out there who think the world’s gonna end a certain way, and it’s their duty to set it in motion. Then, there’s other people who think just ’cause Billy Ray Joe Bob ran away with Sally Sue, it makes no difference, ’cause they’re destined to be together.

Listen, if I hear the word “manifestation” one more time, a motherfucker is gonna lose an eyeball. Fate is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Just move the fuck on with your life, or else fate’s gonna make your ass fat. Then when Sally kicks that wife-beatin’ Billy Ray out, he’s gonna want nothing to do with you.

I think you people smoked a little bit too much sage at Sally V.’s birthday party.

Now leave me the fuck alone.

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