03 January 2009

well if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand

In an attempt to put a side the many fucked up things that are swirling around my head and to move past the gay transgressions that I have committed in the past 48 hours, I've been trying to become one again with my inner hate. Two weeks ago I was perfectly fine, not a care in the world. Now I'm at a point where I want to kick my own ass, and I almost posted the top 5 pictures of me and my son's mother. What the shit is wrong with me? Perhaps I'm going through a mid-life crisis, although I don't lead the healthiest of lifestyles so if this was my actual mid-life - that would mean I'd live to be 54 and some change...don't see that happening as long as there are $3 packs of camels and Rock Bottom continues $1 pint night. Regardless in an attempt to return to the asshole I long to be, and to put aside the slack jawwed faggot who had tears in his eyes when he heard Elvis's "One Night" earlier today...I present this week in hate, or:

top 5 things that send me into a homicidal rage

#5 - People Who are Happy

If you are a happy person, I have but one question - What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you not realize how much there is to be angry about in this world? Traffic, a Democrat entering the White House, a Recession, Michigan's first 8 loss season, and equal pay for women - just off the top of my head. Instead you walk around all "puppy dogs and ice cream" whistling the latest Miley Cyrus song or whatever you happy sons of bitches listen to, why not think of all the pain and suffering in this world. Or at least think of all the pain and suffering in my world.

#4 - My Clients
First off, if you happen to be a client of mine - don't for one second think that I like you. I hope you all develop full blown aids and die - and if you are one of the clients that I do like, it's only because I want to bang you, in which case you will definitely develop full blown aids and die, or at least a wicked case of crabs. Stop asking me for favors. Remember that time I got you a room in Brazil so that you could take your girlfriend on vacation without your wife knowing? And then two weeks later you cancelled a $60,000 contract with me and refused to pay any penalty? I hope one day I catch your sorry ass outside of my place of business - because I will most definitely "let the desert Eaze breath on you"

#3 - My System Administrator
How is it that a free fucking gmail account comes with 7,280 MB of storage, but on my work email, a multi-billion dollar company I only get 300 MB of storage? Every god damn night at 12:00am I get a fucking reminder of how much I hate you. Eat shit and die you cock sucker motherfucking automatically generated email. I like to go back and read email exchanges from two years ago between me and clients that I want to bang - shoot me.

#2 - Text Message / Email Shorthand
I've come to accept LOL. Even the occasual LMAO, ROTFL, and the grandaddy of them all OMFG (if you must blaspheme, have enough respect to write it out long hand) I choose not to use them myself, and on the occasion that I actual do laugh out loud, I write it L-O-L just to draw attention to the stupidity of it. However, I do not subscribte to the recent trend that has mafe it okay to use 'U' in lieu of you, '2' instead of to, and 'Y' instead of why. Nothing tells people that you didn't crack 900 on your SAT's or even graduate high school quicker than using those common substitutions. Furthermore, you are avoiding - at best, an additional two letters. I may be one of the laziest people on earth, but even I can muster the strength to hit those two additional keys. So if you decide to email or text me with those ghetto ass shorthands don't be surprised if you don't get a reply...unless I'm drunk and lonely, otherwise - SMFCYLFMFR (suck my cock you lazy fucking mother fucker)

#1 - Women
Why is it that the ones that I want to bang - ignore my not so subtle text messages? And don't kid yourselves, you're not that fucking hot, I'm just lazy and like to get black out drunk. However, if you happen to be a stripper that I may or may not have had a month long relationship with before dropping you like 5th period French - you decide to text me at 11am on January 2nd? You can all fuck off and die. My New Years resolution is to stop treating 2's and 3's like they are 10's. I don't care how many times you've tried to kill yourself, you're shit still stinks and you're not that hot. But I digress, I'm directing this at you - you fucking transvestite looking emo haircut having opera singing skank that Jefferson Steercock should have banged instead of me. You make me fucking sick you disgusting whore. Any chick that would hook up with me on a night when I was in rare form and got us kicked out of not one, but two bars and even tried to bang you right on top of the second bar should have her fucking manly looking head examined. I have absolutely no respect for you - pound sand.

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