Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Not Having It, EVERYWHERE

I'm really just not having it. I mean, let's be real. NYC is full of androgynous fucktwats, and Cali just straight up isn't. (sidenote: whenever I say good things about California, I am in no way speaking for LA. Fuck everyone and everything in that hellhole of an excuse for a disgusting shitbag of a city full of stupid fucking cunts.) But Cali does have a deep dark secret that I have never noticed before.

When you live in a place like NYC, where the weather is an absolute shitshow and the people are absolute bags of shit, your life just sucks in general. Everything that happens is a fucking inconvenience when your entire life is just one big bad mood. In NYC, when you walk into a Starbucks, and there are other people in line, your inner monologue goes, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!" But you reeeaaally need that $8 cheese plate that wouldn't even feed a fucking rat because everyone is a fucking supermodel and you can't eat too much because if you have anything on your body besides bone shadows, you're a fat freak and no one will be your "friend". I say "friend" because everyone in NYC is such a goddamn asshole, there are no such things as friends. Fuck it.

In Cali, bad vibes and drama just don't exist. But humans were not created to survive solely on unicorn farts, rainbow morphine centaurs and leprechaun pubes (aka: where happiness comes from). Humans need to get pissed off and feel fucking angry sometimes. So, in Cali, because anger doesn't exist, we gotta create it. Hot chicks (which is every girl in Cali) know their lives are going to be super easy because they are so hot. So they develop an inner slutbag and fuck everyone. Then they get upset about it and say they feel used and abused and don't trust dudes. Dudes who are born ugly (which is a lot of dudes in Cali) know they are ugly, and generally don't really care, but they only try to fuck hot girls. Obviously the girls say, "FUUUUCK NO!!!!! HAHAHaHAHHA!!!!!!!!!!" and then the guys feel like turds. Well, they are turds, but now they feel like turds.

People in Cali are just always looking for ways to fuck themselves over so they can complain about something. Because, let's face it, living in Cali, there's no fucking shit to complain about. NYC, on the other hand, is it's own layer of Hell. Satan runs the show and everyone is a miserable bitch until the day they die.

In conclusion: I have a dilemma. Do I stay in Cali with the artificial drama and continue to be bombarded by fucked up fake titties? Or, do I go back to NYC, the evil whore of all evil whores and go back to a life full of hatred and motherfucking hipster fuckbag fuckholes and hate my fucking life which is continuously raped by sadness and pain?

Haha! Fuck! This isn't actually a dilemma.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Dumb Whores

Dumb whores have a special place in my heart. They can't help it. Dumb whores are born dumb. And, honestly, would you really want them to be any other way?

If there isn't a dumb whore at a party, then who's going to be the topless mess asking the water polo team if it's bad that her vagina is TOO tight?

You are.

You know when your guy friends are laughing hysterically about that wasted dumb whore who gave their friend the blow job from hell and barfed on his dick?

Well, who would have done that if dumb whores weren't around?

That's right. You.

Dumb whores protect us from committing faux pas such as these, and many, many more. We have to give dumb whores the respect they deserve. They don't give a shit about ruining their reputations. In fact, dumb whores come straight out of the womb with reputations that resemble something I imagine to look a lot like if Rack Em Willie had a baby with a possum and that baby eventually grew up to become one of those toothless, morbidly obese, toaster strudel-brained fucks on 'Hoarders'.

Dumb whores, I salute you.

You make me look awesome.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

I'm Bloggin!

I haven't blogged in a long time. If you really must know why, it's because I was in a pretty crazy accident and I've been in the hospital for a couple weeks. I'm starting to go through physical therapy to regain the use of my legs. It's a slow and painful process but I'm awesome so I'm sure it will get better.

Haha! Not really, but why the fuck does it matter because no one reads this. And I already know I'm going to hell so shut the fuck up.

I was watching Chelsea Lately the other night. That bitch is seriously the most hungover, drunk-faced, evil bitch from hell and she's closer to death than your great grandparents that are still alive for no fucking reason.

I don't care if bitches drink everyday. I really don't. But don't just get wasted, throw a few NOT FUNNY insults at innocent people and call yourself a fucking comedian. Comedy is a sacred art. In fact, it is the only form of art that actually gets off on having people fuck with it. Fuck around with a Hasselblad and call yourself a photographer?

FUCK NO!

You'll get handlebar-mustache-raped by every hipster photojournalist in the world faster than you can say, "Your girlfriend is anorexic and dresses like a lesbian paperboy and is fucking HIDEOUS in the face, but I guess you don't notice because she lets you fuck her in the ass because she has such fucking low self-esteem!"

Jesus christ. Everyone in Brooklyn should seriously die. Unless I like you. You know who you are. And some of you probably think I like you and I really hate you. Haha!

Anyways...

Comedy is a true art form that should be fucked with on the daily. Comedy is when a parent films their fucked up child and exploits the video tape on Youtube, no doubt forever ruining their child's life.

Comedy is when two douchefuck fratboys give an old hobo vodka and film him acting like a fucking idiot and then make a website out of it. It's fucked up, yes, but I know those guys are going to a special room in hell where they'll eternally have their buttholes fondled by their own grandmas, so I feel like I can give them a break while they're still alive.

Comedy is when somebody farts. I'm sticking to that for the rest of my life.

However, there are some ways to fuck with comedy that is NOT OKAY, DAWG.

Example:

Chelsea Handler is a piece of shit, unfunny old leather handbag. She sits on her ass in that ugly set they call a talk show and fumblemouths all of her unfunny lines written on flashcards because she's too drunk to fucking talk, then she proceeds to make fun of the other people on the show, who are about seventeenfuckillion times funnier than she is, and her fucking retard audience laughs because she scares the shit out of them.

Chelser Handler is a piece of shit that needs to either kill herself, or sew up her vagina and get the FUCK off TV. TV is my best friend in the whole fucking world, and if you get on it and do nothing but bitch about how funny you are flap your disgusting, used-and-abused labia flags all over my face, I have no use for you and I feel like trapping you into a hot air balloon filled with twenty Rick Santorums and-


Holy shit. I just had a seizure because that last part is actually the most fucked up thing I've ever imagined...

So now that we've figured out where all my worst enemies go when they die, I think I'm ready to stop writing.