The Leaves On Masturbator Lane?

I've been raking leaves at work at the porn store the past couple days. There is this little alleyway behind the store that is covered with leaves that we call "Masturbator Lane." Alot of the masturbators that come into the store like to come in from the back and walk down this alley so people won't see them coming in to jerk off. So I'm in the alley with my rake, getting rid of all these fucking leaves as masturbators and jerk-offs walk by me, saying lame shit like, "Good day to rake some leaves, huh?" I'm thinking, "Yeah, just like it is a good day to go into a dark movie booth and play with fucking PUD, right?"

I have to rake the leaves on Masturbator Lane every year around this time, but usually it doesn't bother me. Today, though, I guess I'm getting more sensitive because raking the leaves made me sort of sad. It's like all these leaves are brown and dead and crispy. They are going to get burnt or some of them are just going to lie there and rot and it is just so sad, isn't it? As I was raking them I said to them, "Well the party is over, boys." It was just a few months ago that these leaves were brand new. They were green and fresh, with water running through their veins as they bathed in the spring-time sun. Then they basked in the kisses of the summer sky, laughed with their other leaf buddies on the branch, having a party, and now they are fucking DEAD. Yes, the party is indeed over, just like it will be for all of us someday, I guess.

And before someone says something like, "Don't worry, the leaves will be back next year and they will be green again, because, NO, they won't. The particular, specific leaves I raked up today are DEAD FOREVER just you are going to be someday, you dead FUCK.

I've been fucking around on You Tube and I forgot how many killer songs Pat Benatar has.

Never again?
Isn't that what you said?