I'm sick and fucking tired of being sick and tired of not having anything to bitch about. Everywhere I look, on and offline (but especially on) it's nothing but "Fuck this!" and "Fuck that!" and of course the occasional, "FUCK ME!"
But when will it be my turn?
When will I get to saucily demerit something? When will I find a product, a company, a lifestyle to discredit and invent new cursewords to insult with. When!
True Love is nothing compared to this abyss of placid contentment. I want to make a sour face, not just a frown! The occasional smile across my face sickens me, If I keep it up they are bound to sic the gorillas on me and as everybody knows, I cannot dance. An inability to dance is a death sentence when dealing with the great(er) apes so surely fucked is what I will be. There are rumors that singing in a rumbling baritone will confuse and bewilder a gorrilla but more often than not this will just entice the beast into a wild fit of Sodomyne Bachanale in which every hole situated anywhere near an organ resemblind a mucus membrane will be stretched by at least 1 gauge.
It just isn't right for an individual to live without a gripe I say. Why, imagine all the fun I am missing out on. Imagine the orgy of sour-pussed gloomy ranters, complaining and groaning like sunburned walrus' blessed with speech by some great and benificent winged arachnid. This general lack of complaint sets me far behind even the most obtuse of my peers and if I where a resident of India such malaise would no doubt render me Untouchable. If I can't simmer my effulgent rage into bit sized little rabbit shits of bitchiness, well than what good can I ever hope to accomplish in this existence?
The wise and humble sage Frederick Durste of Chernobyl, Alabama once postulated, "Give me something to break!" and in a similar vein, I beseech the internet and all that it contains, "Give me something to hate!"
I will include a small list of things which I feel neither strongly for or against in the hopes that some brave soul will find the courage to bend my judgement back on itself and thus inspire an anger which will burn the very hair of my scrotum to ash.
-shopping
-midgets in denial
-dogs
-cats
-construction
-the lack of mini-tampons for wayward nosebleeds
-cold weather
-hot weather
-my inability to successfully have wet-dreams
-a general lack of mastadons
-not knowing if certain supposed human beings are or are not made out wood
-the fact that global warming does not include a free margarita
-the lack of an arctic primate other than good old us
-shrimplike foodthings which are not prawns
-small children
-adult children
-allegations of lewish carrolls pedophilia
-allegations of catherine the greats zoophilia
-the existence of the word dendrophilia
-the lack of new organs present in people these days
-do it yourself endings to stories
-peeing in the dark
-video games
-vegans who have not achieved the 7th level of enlightenment
Do your worse internet, for I have a penis and it does not help me with grammar or punctuation even in the slightest. (45,120)
Thu Jul 17, 2008 10:49 am This post gave me panic attacks. I had successfully ignored all the horrors listed here until I was compelled to confront them by this engaging but simultaneously malevolent alarm call. Now I have to travel around with one of those maple-tree tapping screw things just to determine whether th' individuals with whom I interact daily are of flesh or wood. This is bound to get me into trouble, sooner or later, and I'm going to have to place th' blame squarely on th' dendrite shoulders of Mr. 1w here.
Fri Jul 18, 2008 2:31 pm John Kerry is a shining example of such ambigious fiber composition. Let it be known that if it turns out I am in fact a tree, I am coniferous all the way and in no way decidous, not even when drinking. I cannot vouch for my angiosperm progeny however, for their mother was quite fond of butterflies.
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