I hate moving!

I write, therefor I am. That I being said, I hate moving. I hate moving especially when I'm moving other people's worthless shit. I'm a simple man... I have my TV, my Roku, my laptop and all the wiring that are associated with above listed electronic. I have somewhat of a wardrobe, basic furniture (bed, dresser, a table and a chair for my lap-top), and Mr. Pink, of course. I have two wheels to ride, cigarettes, alcohol, and a bit of spare change left in my pocket. Society tells me I should want more, but FUCK that! I'm happy with what I have. I have two wheels to roll on and a big enough, um, "ego"  to satisfy the random women I hook up with on semi-rare occasions. So, if you have an issue with this, you can suck my... um, ego. Apparently, that won't fit in even a T-Rex's mouth, but I can give you something else instead...

See what a self-centered ass I can be? No wonder I lost my loves...