Just when I thought I had gotten over it. I crash at 10:00pm then wake up at 12:00pm, fall back asleep only to be up by 2:00am.
I don't know whats keeping me up but this shit sucks huge hairy balls.
Masturbation helps... Just slightly, but like Chinese food, I'm only hungry 2 hours later... Was that analogy inappropriate? Fuck it.
On an irrelevant note, I love croutons! They are so yum. Dip them in some bleu cheese. Hell yeah.
On yet another random note, I had a conversation with this Portuguese guy. Well he spoke Portuguese and I spoke Spanish combined with the limited Portuguese I do know. It's fun trying to communicate with people who speak a different language.
I might make a game of it. No English or Spanish? Let's have a conversation. Could be fun.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Trying To Be Not So Angry
There are maybe 3 people that I hate in this whole world. Like hate, hate and wish death upon hate.
Wait, that sounds bad. Three people to wish death upon is kind of a high number? Blame it on me being a narcissist. The only other person I give a shit about other then myself and my son is Titusville. I've known that fucker a long time. Fuck, does he get under my skin. I don't know half the time if I want to have crazy, wild sex with him or kill him. Maybe a mixture of both. We do play hard.
As for the people I want dead. I hate you. You know it, I know it. No need to be coy about it. The only reason I don't wish you dead is because it would vastly effect The Boy. Well, just that particular one. Guess that gives that one away. The other two, I could give a shit about.
Well technically the second is also related to my The Boy. I just don't think he'd notice or care because you're fat and ugly and kind of a bitch. Did I say kinda? I take it back. You are a bitch. I don't know how your husband doesn't cheat on you. He must be a better man then most, or really good at hiding his shit. Maybe that's why he's always drunk.
As for the third, not even worth mentioning so there goes that.
There's an honorable forth mention. I don't wish you death. I just don't like you cause you lie. A lot. Like all the fucking time. Seriously? What's the point of lying so much? Especially cause you can't keep your stories straight and you get caught every fucking time? You should work on that. Either stop lying or learn to lie and not get caught. Just saying.
The more I think about it, there's a lot people I don't like. Maybe I should relocate somewhere where I could become the President and dictate who gets to move into the country and who's ugly, fat, or a waste of space. I will call Angry Girlfriendapolis.
I might need a better name then that.
Stupid, fat, ugly people who use to work at whorehouses are not permitted. I still think it's hilarious that you call me a whore but you ACTUALLY sold your vagina for money. By definition and technicality doesn't that make YOU a whore? Just saying.
Wait, that sounds bad. Three people to wish death upon is kind of a high number? Blame it on me being a narcissist. The only other person I give a shit about other then myself and my son is Titusville. I've known that fucker a long time. Fuck, does he get under my skin. I don't know half the time if I want to have crazy, wild sex with him or kill him. Maybe a mixture of both. We do play hard.
As for the people I want dead. I hate you. You know it, I know it. No need to be coy about it. The only reason I don't wish you dead is because it would vastly effect The Boy. Well, just that particular one. Guess that gives that one away. The other two, I could give a shit about.
Well technically the second is also related to my The Boy. I just don't think he'd notice or care because you're fat and ugly and kind of a bitch. Did I say kinda? I take it back. You are a bitch. I don't know how your husband doesn't cheat on you. He must be a better man then most, or really good at hiding his shit. Maybe that's why he's always drunk.
As for the third, not even worth mentioning so there goes that.
There's an honorable forth mention. I don't wish you death. I just don't like you cause you lie. A lot. Like all the fucking time. Seriously? What's the point of lying so much? Especially cause you can't keep your stories straight and you get caught every fucking time? You should work on that. Either stop lying or learn to lie and not get caught. Just saying.
The more I think about it, there's a lot people I don't like. Maybe I should relocate somewhere where I could become the President and dictate who gets to move into the country and who's ugly, fat, or a waste of space. I will call Angry Girlfriendapolis.
I might need a better name then that.
Stupid, fat, ugly people who use to work at whorehouses are not permitted. I still think it's hilarious that you call me a whore but you ACTUALLY sold your vagina for money. By definition and technicality doesn't that make YOU a whore? Just saying.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Yeah, So...
Sometimes being so angry gets annoying. I wish I could let it all go like a good orgasm. Is it so much to ask to be not angry? Not happy, just not angry.
Apparently, it is. Somehow, I know it's my own damn fault. I set myself up for these things, but I am REALLY good at being self destructive.
There was the whole cutting thing, the eating disorder. I push people away cause I simply just don't trust them. It's just what I do. I find way to self destruct. I'd like to believe that I'm not alone, but in reality I am. It's the nature of the beast.
One of these days, I'm going to have to grow up and face my issues.... Until then, I'm drowning it all out with music and alcohol:
How To Say This Nicely?
Nobody cares. Least of all me. Maybe I am sort of a narcissist after all.
Why did God invent you ugly people to begin with? It's like he got bored and needed ugly people to entertain him or something.
More importantly, why are there stupid people?
You want to see me in court? By all means. Bring it on, bitch. You wont win and I'll tear you a new asshole. Here's hoping a big rock falls out of the sky and lands on your fucking head.
In the meantime, I'll just have to block your calls and/or respond to your text and emails with, 'No comment. Feel free to contact my attorney".
Really cute how you tried to set me up, by the way. Classic. Luckily, I learned how to tell when you're lying years ago. Go fuck a duck, k?
I am feeling like a major dumb ass for even being in this situation to begin with. If only I could hit the reset button and make you go away.
How inappropriate would it be to have a beer at 3:30 in the morning? Yes, no, maybe?
Why did God invent you ugly people to begin with? It's like he got bored and needed ugly people to entertain him or something.
More importantly, why are there stupid people?
You want to see me in court? By all means. Bring it on, bitch. You wont win and I'll tear you a new asshole. Here's hoping a big rock falls out of the sky and lands on your fucking head.
In the meantime, I'll just have to block your calls and/or respond to your text and emails with, 'No comment. Feel free to contact my attorney".
Really cute how you tried to set me up, by the way. Classic. Luckily, I learned how to tell when you're lying years ago. Go fuck a duck, k?
I am feeling like a major dumb ass for even being in this situation to begin with. If only I could hit the reset button and make you go away.
How inappropriate would it be to have a beer at 3:30 in the morning? Yes, no, maybe?
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Dirty Fly
I find you so utterly annoying. You're like a fly stuck behind the blinds. I can't see you, but I hear you buzzing away back there.
I want to take my shoe and just beat the hell out of you til you're all smashed up and dead. You stopped buzzing around for a while, but you're still there. Playing dead. Waiting for me to forget that you're back there.
Just as soon as I forget, you start to buzz again. Wreacking all kinds of havoc. I hate you fly. You evil, dirty, whore fly.
Why can't you just die already and go away?!
On second thought, maybe I shouldn't ruin a perfectly good shoe on an evil, dirty fly. After all, my shoe is worth more then your dirty vagina. haha :)
I want to take my shoe and just beat the hell out of you til you're all smashed up and dead. You stopped buzzing around for a while, but you're still there. Playing dead. Waiting for me to forget that you're back there.
Just as soon as I forget, you start to buzz again. Wreacking all kinds of havoc. I hate you fly. You evil, dirty, whore fly.
Why can't you just die already and go away?!
On second thought, maybe I shouldn't ruin a perfectly good shoe on an evil, dirty fly. After all, my shoe is worth more then your dirty vagina. haha :)
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Why Do You People Care?
Apparently, Whitney Houston died. I only know this because my Facebook account exploded with dozens of Facebook status updates from friends and family all saying something along the lines of "RIP Whitney Houston".
I acknowledge that yes, this particular artist was very much talented, but when was the last time she even made a hit? Actually, that's not the point I'm trying to make.
I don't understand why when a public figure dies, the world goes haywire. Micheal Jackson, for an example, was a great artist. A little strange, may or may not have been a pedophile (I believe he was a bit eccentric but by no means a pedophile though he might have possibly suffered from arrested development understandably, but that's also not relevant to this topic), tons of cash to burn which he did quite successfully, might I add. He dies and the world was in mourning.
My point here is, I don't understand the mourning of a person you never actually knew in life. Just because they're a public figure and maybe you admire their work, you're going to be sad when they pass away?
Other then providing you with entertainment and being highly overpaid to do such, why are we bereaved when they die?
A good percentage of them are responsible for their own deaths. As of now, we don't know what happened to Whitney Houston, but considering her jaded pass, it's not hard to figure out what went wrong. Kind of like Marilyn Monroe, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Elvis Presley, Anna Nicole Smith, Amy Winehouse (well, that's a special circumstance), Heath Ledger, the list goes on and on and on.
Celebrities die. They are after all, human. Surprise!
Everyone mentioned aboved loved by fans for one reason or another, but at the end of the day, their job in life was to entertain us, which they all did successfully. They were also financially compensated quite well for their services, and though they all died tragic deaths, it was pretty much all self inflicted.
Maybe I'm just heartless, but I don't understand people mourn the death of public figures. What you know about them, is what they allowed you to see. You enjoyed their work, I get that. But the world moves on. Kind of like if one us "average Joes" were to die (inside joke ;) )
The difference is, no random stranger gives a shit if YOU die, cause they didn't know you and/or you weren't that entertaining or maybe you were fat and ugly, or maybe you were just a straight up asshole. Hell, sometimes people that you do know don't care if you die. So why are you people mourning over a celebrity?
I would sit here and feed into the bullshit of all the RIP Whitney, or whatever but I feel it's a bit redundant and quite frankly, I don't give a shit.
The only guarantee we have in life is that at one point or another, we will die. So why is everyone so surprised? It should've been expected. My morbidness is starting to kick in, but ce' la vie.
I acknowledge that yes, this particular artist was very much talented, but when was the last time she even made a hit? Actually, that's not the point I'm trying to make.
I don't understand why when a public figure dies, the world goes haywire. Micheal Jackson, for an example, was a great artist. A little strange, may or may not have been a pedophile (I believe he was a bit eccentric but by no means a pedophile though he might have possibly suffered from arrested development understandably, but that's also not relevant to this topic), tons of cash to burn which he did quite successfully, might I add. He dies and the world was in mourning.
My point here is, I don't understand the mourning of a person you never actually knew in life. Just because they're a public figure and maybe you admire their work, you're going to be sad when they pass away?
Other then providing you with entertainment and being highly overpaid to do such, why are we bereaved when they die?
A good percentage of them are responsible for their own deaths. As of now, we don't know what happened to Whitney Houston, but considering her jaded pass, it's not hard to figure out what went wrong. Kind of like Marilyn Monroe, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Elvis Presley, Anna Nicole Smith, Amy Winehouse (well, that's a special circumstance), Heath Ledger, the list goes on and on and on.
Celebrities die. They are after all, human. Surprise!
Everyone mentioned aboved loved by fans for one reason or another, but at the end of the day, their job in life was to entertain us, which they all did successfully. They were also financially compensated quite well for their services, and though they all died tragic deaths, it was pretty much all self inflicted.
Maybe I'm just heartless, but I don't understand people mourn the death of public figures. What you know about them, is what they allowed you to see. You enjoyed their work, I get that. But the world moves on. Kind of like if one us "average Joes" were to die (inside joke ;) )
The difference is, no random stranger gives a shit if YOU die, cause they didn't know you and/or you weren't that entertaining or maybe you were fat and ugly, or maybe you were just a straight up asshole. Hell, sometimes people that you do know don't care if you die. So why are you people mourning over a celebrity?
I would sit here and feed into the bullshit of all the RIP Whitney, or whatever but I feel it's a bit redundant and quite frankly, I don't give a shit.
The only guarantee we have in life is that at one point or another, we will die. So why is everyone so surprised? It should've been expected. My morbidness is starting to kick in, but ce' la vie.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Ask Me
If you want to know what I'm really feeling, ask me when I'm drunk.
You might not like what I have to say, but it will be the honest truth.
P.S. You suck hairy balls, asshole.
You might not like what I have to say, but it will be the honest truth.
P.S. You suck hairy balls, asshole.
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