I Miss You

That "I miss you" was directed at no one in particular. It wasn't directed at you, or you, or whatever, but regardless, I TOTES MISS YOU.

What am I talking about?

Don't fucking worry about it.

Look. I've been in New York for about a week and a half. It's been fucking delicious. What is wrong with me? I hated this godforsaken wasteland of shit for such a long time, and now I feel like picking up my phone and sexting with it. What the fuck? I wanna go down on New York. I wanna tickle the nuts, or labia or whatever New York might have down there. I wanna pleasure the shit out of New York and have some kind of pizza with it, or like, steak or something. Or, whatever you have with a sexual date. I want to fuck the crap out of this city. I want to make sex on it. I want to kill it and wear it like a fucking burka. Kill me.

God.

Does this even count as a blog post?

Shoot me in the face.

I KNOW it's been a while. Chill.

I'm sorry. I gotta talk about this fucking election.

IT

IS

A

SHITSHOOOOOOOOW.


Let's all admit it. Obama is (mostly) black and sexy as fuck. He's got a voice like like the 'Chocolate Rain' guy and we'd all vote for him even if he wanted to legalize meth and make the legal drinking age 55.

He's got my vote, and who cares why. Now, let's talk about Mittens.

WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE.

Notice how that was phrased as a question, but I did not add a question mark. HENCE, it is not a question ("Yeah, hence!" - Anna Faris) it is a fucking statement, because not only do I not know who the fuck he thinks he is, neither does he. FACT.

Listen, Mitt Romney doesn't know his ass from the hole in his mom. (Ha! See where I took that? Offensive!) The only redeeming quality he has (literally) is that he got made fun of on '30 Rock'. That makes you somewhat/hella cool, as far as I'm concerned. That being said, I hope he dies.

Honestly, I'm mad tired, so I don't want to get into all this shit. Romney is equivalent to a quadriplegic, gay figure skater with harlequin ichthyosis, and therefore slightly unqualified to tell me what to do with my fuck-parts. I can't wait til he passes a law that makes female circumcision mandatory.

Who needs a clitoris?!

It's Not You, It's Me

JK fuckers, it's you!

Everyone got their panties in a twist because they thought that my previous blog post was like, me resigning from blogs. (sidenote: by "everyone" I mean a couple sexy people, plus Nobody).

It wasn't. Maybe my words are confusing, but probably you're all just idiots.

I love you all so much, I would never abandon you. You should know that!

I'll talk more later, but right now I am too annoyed to type. Lol?

LET'S DO THIS

I can't even remember the last time I posted. My apologies to my faithful reader, Nobody. Love you man.

Anyway, I'm going to change that and officially make my last blog post RIGHT NOW.

Yaaaayyy...!?

A lot of things are going on right now. The Olympics, presidential campaigning, I'm pretty sure the Iraq war is still happening, and last but not least, I had a dream last night that all my fingernails came off.

Let's talk about all of these things!

THE OLYMPICS:

Shove it up your ass. If my parents had forced me to do gymnastics immediately after falling out of my mom, I'd be really fucking good at it too. But they didn't, and I got to grow up to have a cool body that normal people are supposed to have. Go me!

THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION:

If Mitt Romney becomes the president of the United States, this is what I will do...

First, I will buy a lot of guns, because that's what Mitt would want. Seriously. OoohhhfuckI'mgoingintoatangentttaaahhhh-

Think about it. If every single person in that movie theater had a gun, NOTHING BAD WOULD HAVE HAPPENED.

One person having a gun is bad, because they might kill somebody. But if EVERYONE has a gun, then everyone will obviously just kill that person before that person kills anyone.

IT MAKES SO MUCH FUCKING SENSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, after I buy all the guns, I will build a raft out of them and sail to England. If any sharks try to eat me while I'm rafting, I'll just shoot them! Lol.

Once I arrive in England, I will bitch slap the shit out of Prince William and Princess Kate. Or Dutch and Dutchess of...what, Sweden? Hungary? Hogwarts? Narnia? More like Douche and Douchess! I'm funny dammit and you WILL laugh at what I say, Nobody!

I want to bitch slap them very badly, mostly because they are so incredibly unimportant to me, and I am tired of seeing their bland, fat-free cream cheese on a stale bagel faces take up magazine covers that should belong to Angelina Jolie's matterhorn of a forehead and the glamorous gems of Teen Mom. This is AMERICA. Don't subject me to the Royal Butterfaces of Britain. Do not want.

You know, speaking of important current events, let's talk about this Kristen Stewart and Roger Patterson bullshit.

First of all, there's no way those pictures are real. Like, I'm not even famous and I still wouldn't cheat on somebody in public. And I'm an idiot! You can't convince me that the most famous stoner in the world is THAT dumb of a bitch.

Plus, I kind of like her. I feel like if we ever hung out, she'd laugh at all my jokes. So that pretty much does it for me.

Plus (again) I seriously don't remember a single fucking scene from Twilight with Roger in it. That ain't good, is it? Granted, I wasn't really paying that much attention, because I kept saying hilarious things about how artistic the film was because it was so funny watching all the kids in the theater get so mad at me and I'm a terrible person. But yeah. When you costar in a movie that's only about you and one other person, if I don't remember you being in it, you pretty much suck.

Anyway, in conclusion, Mitt Romney is AMAZING and I totally hope he wins so that I can finally be positive that killing myself is a good idea.

THE WAR IN IRAQ:

Should be over. If it isn't. I think maybe it is. But the important thing is that it was a really good war with lots of really positive outcomes. Sheesh, conservatives have all the answers for everything!!!

Okay, that was bitchy. I'm sorry conservatives, but let me end this debate RIGHT NOW.

Look, I get it. Liberals don't have all the fucking answers either. We aren't perfect and we don't know how to fix all the horrible problems that the US has created for itself. But think about this:

Liberals generally want to do things that allow people to have rights and get on with their lives.

Conservatives generally want to do things that make people's lives super difficult for no reason.

THAT'S IT. THAT'S THE WHOLE FUCKING THING. ARGUE WITH ME ON THAT. OH WAIT, YOU CAN'T BECAUSE I'M RIGHT. GO FUCK YOURSELF.

Besides, sure Obama didn't rescue the US from being terrible (thanks GBush) but he didn't make it more terrible, which seems to be unavoidable for certain choughconservativerepublicanchough presidents.

OMG if I keep thinking about politics I'm going to get diarrhea. What was the other thing on my list?


Oh, right. My dream! I dreamed that all my fingernails fell off and I was genuinely unhappy about it.

Is It Pronounced "Goatee"?

Well, it is now. I finally listened to that Gotye shit everyone's been cumming all over.

I don't get it.

I guess maybe I'm just not cultured enough to appreciate the music, but it turns out I'm actually way more cultured than anyone else and I'm actually the only one that understands that goatee fucking sucks.

In other news, I just got this hot new underwear but it had these annoying bows on it so I cut them off.

I Don't Smoke Weed

But you can if you want.

Anyway, I know that all of you are seriously struggling to not be fucking retards, so I thought I'd provide some guidance to help you out.

How To Catch Yourself Being A Retard and/or How To Tell If You're Doing It Right:

You just painted your nails black.  

CAUGHT

You still have a hard time choosing between they're, there and their.  

CAUGHT

You just listened to any Katy Perry song all the way through.  

CAUGHT

You just made an illegal U-Turn.  

YOU'RE DOING IT RIGHT

You enjoy watching "Citizen Kane".  

CAUGHT

You never went to see "Watchmen" because you already read the book and didn't give a shit.  

YOU'RE DOING IT RIGHT

When put on the spot, you don't know left from right.  

YOU'RE FINE. THAT SHIT IS HARD.

You write people confrontational emails instead of actually confronting them, and don't even bother to correct your fucking typos.  

CAUGHT

Your boyfriend or girlfriend doesn't "get" you and it makes you sad.  

CAUGHT

You are a college student and you don't think you have a drinking problem.  

CAUGHT

You don't think you're a retard.  

CAUGHT

You cut yourself, then tell people about it.  

CAUGHT. REAL GANGSTERS DON'T CUT AND TELL

You do "cleanses".  

CAUGHT. YOU'RE FUCKING DISGUSTING AND DON'T EVER USE MY BATHROOM

You hear dubstep and you're like, ugh I don't like dubstep.  

CAUGHT. EVERYONE FUCKING LIKES DUBSTEP AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT IN PUBLIC WE ALL KNOW YOU LIKE IT IN YOUR FUCKING BEDROOM WHILE YOUR PARENTS ARE SLEEPING

You know for a fact that cats are better than dogs.  

ANYONE THAT DOESN'T HAVE TO PICK UP SHIT WITH THEIR HANDS IS OBVIOUSLY DOING IT RIGHT

Unfortunately for you, that is only the beginning of a never ending list of retardisms that you undoubtedly possess. And if you're doing any of it right, I'll see you in hell.

Okay, Bitches.

IT'S FUCKING RAINING.

Stop.

I'm done with this. I'm moving back to New York. I am excited!

I'm bored.

QUESTION

Does the phrase, "make it rain" mean to throw money all over a stripper? Or does it literally mean you jizz so much it's like it's raining? Because if you do, stop. Nobody needs your jizz. And if you do get somebody pregnant, you WILL take her to the abortion clinic, and you WILL pay for the abortion.

Otherwise, legally, you are this.


Yay!

Feisty

Is how I am feeling. What in fuck's name does feisty even mean? Can you conjugate it? Feistful? Feistworthy? Feistival? Whatever. Who the feist cares.

Okay. Let me tell you some secrets that will make you a better person and make people like you more.

Secret Number ONE:

It is very possible to look beautiful when you wake up after you stayed up too late and slept with your makeup on.

Step one: be me.

That's it.

Secret Number TWO:

Go to the gym. I mean, that's just like...we all should. Also, fart while you're there. Nobody knows it's you.

Secret Number THREE:

Don't fuck dudes. Just stop. Get to know them, THEN fuck them, THEN stop hanging out with them. That way, instead of being a disgusting slutbag snatch juice factory, you'll be the heart-breakin', homewreckin', "one that got away". That's what you want to be. Unless you're a stupid bitch. In that case, just keep doing what you're doing. Every city needs a stupid bitch.

Secret Number FOUR:

I don't know, just stop being rude. Nobody probably likes you because you're rude.

Natural Selection

I've been thinking a lot about New York, recently. Surprisingly, it hasn't been causing my discharge to be full of razorblades. No, I have actually been thinking of New York...well, rather fondly.

Haha, I just realized that the word "fondly" is the same spelling as if the word "fondle" could be used as an adverb. Don't touch me wif dem fondly hands, Grandpa!!

Ah, yes. Well, maybe that doesn't make sense. But I'm still pretty, so you WILL listen to what I have to say.

ANYWAYZZZZZZZZZZ

I have been thinking about the fun times in New York. The careless, breezy days. Sun shining, birds chirping, and me. Just sitting in the warmth of it all, soaking in the poetry and-

Lolfuck , I am totally kidding.

LAWD, FUCK NEW YORK AND ALL HELL IT HATH WROUGHT UPON GOD'S CHERUBS.

New York is full of scum-sucking road whores (thanks, Janis) and no, it was not "too much" for me to live there and I was not "unhip" and "just didn't fit in".

Well, maybe I wasn't hip enough for NY. Maybe I didn't fit in. But guess what?

Not fitting into with the rest of the LATFH larpers only means that I am going to live past my twenties.

I think when Darwin came up with the idea for Natural Selection, he and his FWB Nostradamus were chuckling the shit out of their b-holes thinking about how much hipsters were going to suck in the future and they they would be naturally selected to rot in Rick Santorum's ass cavity for the rest of eternity.



And yes. I am a hipster. I know that.

But oops, now I can't be. Because I said that.

YAYLOOPHOLES!!

But you know who is a hipster?

This chick.


THAT FUCKING GUUYYY!!!


I'm gonna get that picture made into custom toilet paper. This guy's gonna wipe my butt with his face.


That's friendship.




I hate New York.

Good News, Nobody!

Well, I guess it's unfair of me to keep calling you nobody, since you've got to be at least one person (Mom). But anyway, I just found out something sweet.

I looked at the traffic to my blog, and it turns out that the google search that brings most of you here (after the title, of course) is:

"japanese vagina juice peeing moist".

Who would have thought??? This is better than being famous! I have achieved something I only ever dreamt of. People listen to me and know who I am simply because they're fucking around on Fandango, trying desperately to avoid "The Hungry Hungry Hippo Games", and "The One With James Franco's Brother" and realize they've got a strong hankerin' for some Japanese piss porn.

How many of you can say that?





Alright, I guess your column did have its raunchy times, Mom...

THE ACADEMY AWARRDDDSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!

I didn't watch. Anyways, I've been thinking a whole lot about nothing. Isn't it weird when that happens? A whole week or twelve go by and not much pops into your head besides images of cats riding ponies or other fucking adorable shit.

Since I have nothing on my mind (besides this) I'm going to make a list.

Top 5 Hobos In My Life:

5.  The Georgi connoisseur that lived in front of Key Foods in Brooklyn. I give him credit for challenging   me to take a look at my life after I ran into him at the liquor store and realized we had similar taste.

4.  The guy that lived in front of the Merc before it burned down. He and my mom were on a first name basis. That's why my mom is better than your mom.

3.  The bald lady that lives at the mall. I can always count on her to be there. Because she's always there. I also want to give a shout-out to the giant suitcase she carries with her. I don't know what she's got in there but I know it sure as hell ain't clothes because she's never changed hers. I like to think it's full of fingers. No one's in particular. Just a nice bag of fingers. Well, okay, I'm hoping the fingers belong to the dumb bitches that fuck around with my emotions all day at work. I like to think that when they leave my store in a whirlwind of haggling fuckery, Baldyanne (possibly not her real name) jumps out from around the corner (where she lives) and takes their precious pointer finger! Never again will they point at the specks of off-color velour and use their nails to rip off buttons to try to get a discount! NO MORE FINGERS IN MY FACE FOR NOT GIVING YOU A FULL REFUND BECAUSE I CAN SMELL YOUR VAGINA JUICE ON THE PANTS YOU HAVE OBVIOUSLY BEEN WEARING FOR FIVE YEARS!!!!!!!!

2.  Punchy McGee. Also not a real name, but if you read this blog you know who that is.

1.  The coveted number one spot is awarded to none other than...

The Piss Witch!!!

I've smelled a great deal of piss in my life, but never any quite as toxic and mixed with wet dog and Georgi vomit as that of the Piss Witch.

The Piss Witch lives in Starbucks (for the most part) and spends her time sitting at the table behind the sugar counter, beating everyone in the head with odor waves of piss as they fill their drinks with sugar and milk. Once she is finished doing that, and is also finished with the conversation she's been having WITH HERSELF, she gets up and rummages through the trash, finding whatever the fuck is in their besides sugar wrappers, stirrer sticks and leftover dry-heaves of those who smell the piss. I've left a few dry-heaves in that trash can myself in the past, but lately I have realized that the experience can be a learning one.

Piss is a lot like a fine wine. Catch a whiff, and you immediately know what it is. However, upon a more in depth sniff (and possibly a taste, for all you sucio golden showering fucks out there) the piss can tell quite a story. Hints of fruit, pine and Hep C slowly twist their way into your nostrils, allowing your brain to decipher and fully appreciate the exotic piss.

Jk. The bitch smells like piss piss PISS.

Btdubs, I don't usually say the word "piss". I much prefer "pee" because it sounds cute and I love peas.

However, when I smelled this woman, only one thing came to my mind...

So It's Been A Few Days

I'm a lazy bitch. What do you want from me?

I'd like to talk for a moment about bicycles. A bicycle is a practical invention that allows humans and carnival animals to glide from point a to point b with ease and agility.

THAT'S ALL THEY FUCKING ARE.

To all you bicycling fucks out there, this may come as a shock right to your asshole, but when you dress up in your neon condom suit and mount your steed, YOU DO NOT HAVE THE POWER.

You bicyclists better stop acting like your asses own the road. Because NEWS FLASH:

I am in a car. I hit you, you die. My life goes on. Yours is over.

I do happen to have an adorable little anecdote for this situation.

A few weeks ago, I was driving in my car (something a normal person with normal clothing would do) when a gaggle of gaywads (I never use that word but the alliteration was too awesome) came "cycling" down the street, joyously preparing to cut me off.

Little did those fucktwats know, when I see the "SHARE THE ROAD" sign, I take that to mean, Yeah! You bikefuckers! Your bikes can't take up the whole road and you WILL share it with me, nutsacks!

So I said to myself, fuck it, those shiteaters are still a good deal of road away from me. I can make my turn without hitting any of them.

And I did.

But not before one of them yelled from his metal donkey, "Nice move, asshole!"

Well, I appreciate a good rude comment, but not from someone riding a motorcycle's retarded, inbred sister.

I said, "It would have been nicer if I'd hit you!"

This made the neon popsicle angry. He flipped me off and said, "Whatever, man!"

What.

A.

Pussy.

The best part?

As another one of the Cycling Cindys passed me by, he shouted to me, wind whipping his helmet hair, "That was actually a pretty good burn!"

And they were gone.

I'll never forget that pussy that tried to be a dick to me. I'll also never forget the one cool guy that ever rode a bike, and acknowledged that his friend was a pussy.

Other than that, if you get your fashion advice from Yo Gabba Gabba and don't have the balls to drive a car, get the fuck out of my way. Because I will share the road with you. I'll share the road with you so hard, you'll become part of the fucking road.

Pedal on, pussies. Pedal on.

Uncomfortable Moments This Week

This week has been full of uncomfortable moments, which is awesome because everyone knows I get off on awkward.

First one. I went to the bank to open a savings account. I've been getting way too much money since I started at the new corner, and I was getting kind of tired of storing it in my sideboob (papercuts) so I needed a place to put it all.

I sat down and the teller is like, "Um, ma'am, you have some seriously bad credit. We can't open an account for you."

Bitch. Please.

How can I have bad credit if I've never even had good credit? I've never had credit period so I know it can't be bad. Like sex. It can't be bad if it's never been good. And AIDS. If you've never had AIDS and you get it, then you just have AIDS. You can't get it and be like, "OMG I have the worst AIDS!" How would you know? You've never had good AIDS so shut the fuck up.

Anyway, I gave the teller my best "wanna find out if these teeth could rip your dick off?" smile and assured him that there was no way I could have bad credit.

He looked over his papers and laughed. He said, "OMG I'm sorry, I was looking at the credit report of the lady I was helping before you! Bitch had some bad credit LOL!" We both had a good laugh. Our laugh was especially good because the lady he had just helped was still standing right next to us looking for her keys or something. Awesome.

Another uncomfortable thing that happened this week was that I got all my tax returns done and I'm about to get a fuck ton of money. Just kidding, that's not uncomfortable, I'm just rich as shit.

I am tired of writing now. I am sorry.

The Shamcademy Awards

I just saw the Oscar nominations list. First of all, I would like to make it known that, just like everything else in the world, I don't give a Sim's digital shit about the Oscars. It's unfortunate, because I totally give a shit about movies. I love them. I mean, except the ones that I hate. But I'm a flannel-wearing, skinny-jeans-lovin', Ray Ban-sportin' film freak. Like I said, it's unfortunate.

But after reading this latest list of nominees, I must say I actually feel a little better. It's official that these awards are actual horse shit.

If "The Tree of Life" wins an Oscar, then I should win an Oscar for wiping my own ass.

You're telling me that all I have to do is steal footage from a telescope, digitally insert dinosaurs into a forest, and have some creepy child whisper "MOTHER....FATHER....BROTHER....COUSIN-I-MADE-OUT-WITH-AT-THAT-WEDDING-ONCE-BUT-ITS-OKAY-SHES-LIKE-MY-SECOND-COUSIN-IM-PRETTY-SURE" and then add scenes of Sean Penn walking through a fancy building.

THAT'S NOT A FUCKING MOVIE. That's some asshole jacking off all over a fancy digital camera and then rubbing his nips in our faces while we watch it.


Fuck. That.


But I don't know. Maybe I'm just bitter because "Step Up 2 the Streets" never got the nomination it deserved.


I'm still reeling...

THE FUCKING SUPERBOWL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is football, so I automatically don't give a shit.

I'm not a genius, but I'm probably smarter than the entire cast and crew of "Glee" put together, and I still do not know the first fucking thing about football.

My knowledge of football is as follows:

Not even a month ago, I asked the question, "Why is it called football if no one ever kicks the ball?"

Apparently, that's not true. As if any of you assholes knew that either. I don't care how many eighth downs it takes to get to the seventy-sixth yard line, and I never will. I tried though, okay? I have been coached one-on-one by at LEAST twenty giant, burly, bearded, greasy, disgusting men about the rules and the overall point of football.

It's just not going to happen for me. I can deal with basketball, and baseball is wonderful. Tennis is a mockery of athletics and hockey is even worse. If this mated with this, hockey would be born. Don't even get me started on hockey.

Anyway, I shouldn't keep talking because all of the 49ers just pulled up in a party bus to take me to Vegas.

I don't give a shit about their sport and they still like me better than all of you!

Holla.

It's Cold In California

I blame New York.

Gay Shit

As most of us know, the word "gay" has become somewhat of a chameleon. It has acquired a rainbow of meanings, if you will (gay pun intended). In fact, the meaning of the word "gay" has become so versatile, it can literally be used as a stand-in for every single fucking adjective in the entire English fucking language (because, literally, English has become a language that takes actual, proper language and says, "FUCK YOU LANGUAGE AND RULES!" and fucks it in the ass).

Thanks to our fuckery of all things lingual, the word "gay" can be used in place of:

happy, homosexual, lame, awesome, shit, fuck, crap, dammit, ugly, weird, uncomfortable, overjoyed, full of penis, untruthful, sneaky, religious, energetic, good at dancing when you shouldn't be, bad at dancing when you shouldn't be, political, what your parents are being, what your boss is being, what your friends are ALWAYS being, what your internet connection is being, what your cat is being, what your girlfriend is being, what all dogs are being all the time and everyone that likes them, what your boyfriend is being, the songs the radio is playing, the way your manicure looks, the way your school picture looks, what your friend was when he shattered your favorite bong, what beer is being when it gets you too drunk, what beer is being when it doesn't get you drunk enough, what people are that don't invite you to hang out with them, what people are that you don't invite to hang out with you, fire, when it burns something you didn't want it to burn, water, when it gets something wet that you didn't want it to get wet, black people, white people, Asian people, Middle-Eastern people, British people (always), traffic, any sport you don't understand or aren't good at, any subject in school you suck at, pedestrians if you're driving, drivers if your walking, cyclists, if you're anyone

AND SO ON AND SO FORTH.

In high school, there was this gay guy that called me a cunt all the time. One time I said, "How would you like it if I called you a fag?" After he finished slapping me in the face for saying "fag" he said, "I can call you a cunt because you know you're not a cunt, but I am a fag so you can't call me that."

First of all, that makes no fucking sense, and second of all, I AM a cunt, so fuck that guy. And so, Hilary Duff, shut the fuck up and let me call stuff gay if I want to.

And if you are gay, no offense lol.

Leave Me A Jew

Somebody help me the fuck out. Did I miss something? Well, obviously I did because when the fuck did it become a law that hot Asian chicks can only date gangly, white Jewish nerds?!?!?

I mean, I love nerds. They are smart and witty and always know how much to tip, so I don't have to try to figure it out and embarrass myself. And they always never drink so you know you have a ride home if you pass out at the party. And if you pass out naked, you know you won't get raped. I mean, your boobs might get touched, but that's probably it.

But I'm not talking about any white nerds, and I'm not talking about any hot Asian chicks. I'm talking about the Stephen Hawking (and no, you sick fucks, I'm not making a disability reference, I mean he is literally the biggest nerd science has to offer) of white guys and the if-Lucy-Liu-and-Bai-Ling-had-a-baby of hot Asian chicks.

Why are they all dating each other?? Maybe I'm a little edgy because it's my goal in life to marry a rich Jew, and now it looks like I'll have to fight a bunch of hot Asian chicks to the death to achieve this goal, and you know those bitches are all ninjas underneath their big fake boobs and Hello Kitty backpacks! Yes, I went there. Chia Pet. Tamagachi. I'm racist. Wanna fight?

So, listen. I love all races (except British [is that a race?]) but STEP THE FUCK OFF MY JEWS. Or at least leave me one.

Arigato gozaimasu, bitches.

ATTENTION, ANYONE!

I accidentally posted a link to this blog on my Facebook (lol jk I'm a fucking attention whore) and I sincerely wanted to apologize to anyone that clicked on it. I have family and friends that probably would have loved going through life never reading the awful shit that comes out of my brain.

Anyway, if you were offended by this blog and now hate me, I'm sorry (but I'll survive) and if you read this and liked it, you're probably going to hell.

This Shit Needs to Stop

I've been trolling political websites all day and I have to say, this shit needs to stop (HEY that's the title of the post! [fucking obviously which is why I fucking called it that]{these parentheses need to stop}).

I'm not the sharpest screwdriver in Ann Coulter's torture-porn toolbox, but I'm not exactly retarded either. So naturally, I came to a genius realization about current events and politics in general.

People really need to fucking stop blaming political parties for shit. At this point, there are no longer republicans or democrats, liberals or conservatives. The new terms for each party should just be Douchefucks and Bigger Douchefucks. We're all douchefucks, but some of us are just bigger douchefucks than others and that's the naked truth.

 I mean, I would consider myself a liberal, but even I was offended at some of the nutbaggery and fucktardisms these liberal fucks were vomiting into their articles. One of which was, "republicans hate black people". Good point. Except someone should probably let the black republicans know that so they can either switch over to being democrat or get some white transplants, WHICH BY THE WAY we would totally have the science to provide if those goddamn black-hating republicans would let us use stem cell research!!!

Wow, new realization. Republicans strictly banned stem cell research to keep black people black so they could not be republicans. Those sneaky bastards.

Anyway, the point is, there are probably some republicans that hate black people. Just as I'm sure there are some democrats that hate black people. Which doesn't even make sense because how the FUCK can you dislike Mekhi Phifer? Who is waiting for me in the shower right now. Basically, I don't care what race you are, if you're a fucking asshole, I will categorize you as such.

Another fun topic is abortion. Like, get out of my fucking uterus, Rick Santorum. You don't fucking belong in there and neither does a baby. I mean, there's an easy way to solve the problem. Just round up all the dudes in the world and rip off their nuts. Now no one can get pregnant! No more abortions! And also no more reproduction so the human race will slowly die off and we'll never have to fucking talk about politics again.

I've gotta go get in the shower with Mekhi before the hot water runs out, but please hear me, human race.

Just die. We'll all be better off.

It's Monday As FUCK Right Now

I was born today. Don't worry about what year, just know that I'm still young and vibrant as shit. I know everyone in the world is probably still slungover from new years, so I won't take up much of your time. As a tribute to myself on my birthday, which is a very special day because I'm the only person in the world that has one, I have created a brief list of ten reasons why I am so awesome.


1.   I have been told by almost everyone I've ever met that I'm disgusting.
2.   I kind of look like a boy, but I still get shit tons of ass.
3.   I am Irish, which means my ancestors were raped by Vikings.
4.   My grandma was on a billboard for her assisted living home wearing a velour tracksuit (which really is more of a reason why SHE was awesome).
5.   I'm really good with kids, but I'm not a pedophile.
6.   I once met a very famous comedian at a bar in New York and, after a short conversation, asked him why he wasn't funny in real life.
7.   The only reason I started wearing a bra was because some girl told me I should.
8.   Same thing with shaving my legs. Different girl, though.
9.   When I was little, my dad was doing yard work outside and asked me for some juice. I brought him Metamucil.
10. Nobody knows this, but I'm actually really, really nice.


Thanks for all the birthday wishes, faithful readers(nobody)!