|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| You've got to help me, Doctor Worm. There's this exquisite dead guy who I just find S-E-X-X-Y. It's like everything right is wrong again. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| You think you've got it bad? Youth culture killed my dog, I've got a rabid child, and I'm forced to be a counsellor for psychos. | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Come on Doc, my emotions are in turmoil. I can't just become a robot. I can hear you have problems, but right now you're your own worst enemy. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| I mean, I did great things for science! I discovered a new particle, man! But order one hooker from Istanbul (not Constantinople as some claim), and suddenly... | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
The next day outside New York City...
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| He didn't help. I'll just have to accept fate. Kiss me, Son of God. I'm ready for that first kiss. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| *sigh* I need to find a way off this fucking website... | |
 | |  |
|
|
|