The Crackie of Camden is wishing you a good morning with a little cheese toast. You might want to scrape her special crackie crumble off the top unless you want to be cracked out of your brains by noon. Actually, that’s not such a bad thing. I’ll have two.
I guess the crackhive has hit the fucking road for good. It finally had enough. I just hope it’s on a beach somewhere, working on a tell-all. Now that the crackhive quit that bitch, Wino has gone for the curly pube bush look instead. She kind of looks like the missing Marx brother: CRACKO!
Outside of her den this morning, Wino handed out cheese toast and asked one of the pappies if she could use their cell phone. She probably called her dealer to have erotic phone times. You know she gets off ordering 8-balls and shit. After that, Wino told the pappies she was getting treatment for a rash on her stomach. Um…methinks the treatment would be rather simple. I’m not a doctor or anything, but perhaps a Hazmat shower would cure that shit. Fuck. Even a regular shower with actual soap!
Wino still didn’t talk about Blaaaaake. She hasn’t even visited him in rehab! Some dumb whores are even saying they might break-up. NOOOO!!! They are the junked out Romeo & Juliet of our times. First, the crackhive goes, then Blaaake, what’s going to be next?! Don’t say the crack…..don’t say it! Wino without the crack is like me without Mother’s Circus Animal Cookies (yes, I’m obsessed in a bad way).