Take advice from fuckups.they're the only ones that can tell you about the bottom & how to avoid it


Friday, February 26, 2010

I Was Drunk

I was drunk when I wrote that last blog. It made me really grossed out at myself after I read it. Gee Whiz... I'm sorry.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Crazy Bitch Girlfriend.

I've always hated men for being emotionally retarded, mentally lazy beings, but at the same time I envy them for being this way. I'm sick of being a psucho female. I know I'm crazy, and being a woman only adds to my being unstable.
I'm so insecure that whenever I find that my boyfriend is paying attention to an attractive female character in a movie or a television show that it instantly ruins it for me. This is part of the reason why I prefer to watch things alone. Half of the time he doesn't even notice the comments he makes toward other women he's attracted to. I try my hardest not to say anything about my noticing his interest in these things. I don't want to be called a psycho, or a crazy bitch...but I eventually make myself look three times crazier when I bring it up waaaay after the fact and he can't even remember what I'm getting pissed about...OR is it that he's just pretending to not remember...cos he's one of those deceptive things with a penis.
I really don't think guys can even tell when they gawk or make inappropriate comments when there is an attractive female around. It isn't their fault that I'm sensitive and can sense these things like a drug dog outside of a locker containing a coat pocketful of roaches. I'm not just being crazy about this shit, I just read people well. It doesn't bother me that my man is showing interest in other women, it bothers me that they never look ANYTHING like I do. Then I get insecure. I feel like "if you're so attracted to women that are built like 13 year old boys, than why are you with a short, fat, redhaired girl with big tits?"
My bisexuality only makes this an even harder hill to climb. I'm constantly told by my partners that I'm allowed to sleep with women in front of them, but I'm not allowed to fuck them on my own. When a guy sees a generi looking attrative woman, I'm always nudged by guys that are aware of my gayness, like I'm going to be attracted to them just because I fuck girls. Never mind the fact that some people have a little thing called taste...
The plain truth is that I hate women that are considered attractive by a general population of men. I just started watching a programme on tv and I was quite fond of it. But then...a ridiculously attractive female character came into the story. As soon as this happened I knew that eventually the lead character was going to end up fucking her. I knew it. Since when does a remotely chubby or girl with a messed up grill get even the role of fuckbuddy for a lead role in a show as his fuckbuddy or girlfriend???---uh, never. Of course, halfway thru the season the bitch ended up a fuckbuddy to the lead character. *note that my boyfriend had no interest in the show until this woman was introduced as a character. UGH. It is now ruined for me. He watches it. I don't. I just looked over. Like, seventy fuckscenes inserted into this damn thing since she came into it. GOd damn it.
I apologize for my free form confusing writing, but there's so much that people don't get about a woman's insecurities that are AMPLIFIED by the stupid little things that men say and do.
I just have to accept the fact that I hate attractive people. They ruin everything for women, I hate that it's this way, but it is. Fat and even blatently UGLY guys don't have this problem. In fact, I've dated a few pretty chubby guys and a couple of ugly guys and they still prefer to date women that are built like thriteen year old boys, and it sucks for me to know that just because I'm not thin, I will NEVER be treated like a beautiful woman or a goddess by anyone as long as I live. I'm not even really that fat, and I am pretty, but it's not enough. It will never be enough.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


I've been wanting to write about this for sooo long. It pisses me off that I'm going to have to hold back on it out of the fact that what I want to really say is going to piss people off. I'll just say that I feel the same way about racial, sexual, and gender sensitive slurs as I do about the word "cunt", while being a woman. A lot of people are afraid of the word cunt. Most women will cut a bitch if they get called one, but barely flinch at being called a bitch. I don't get this. I think that if you're going to give a word power, then you're as ignorant as half of the people throwing the word around. I also feel like it's pretty stupid to say that I'm a racist judging by the rainbow variety of enthnic cock I've sucked...willingly. The problem I run into with hate speech is that I don't use it to intentionally hurt anyone. I don't run up to people and call them fags, spics, etc... but I do say slurs sometimes, and most of the reasoning behind using these words is the fact that they're fun to say because I'm not allowed to say them...and I love doing things I'm not allowed to do. I don't run around saying 'nigga' like I think that I'm THAT cool with black people. I feel like I'm an intelligent enough of a person to determine which words I will use and how I will use them.

On another note, I am so sick and fuckin tired of stupid white rednecks giving the whole "there's a difference between niggers and black people...there's white niggers" speech. I always ask them immediately after to define what a nigger is to them, to which they always reply "A person that doesn't have a job...and plays loud music...and has a bunch of kids...etc etc etc..." No they don't, they think black people are niggers...and ya know what? If that's their opinion of what a nigger is, then I'm one. I don't work, I smoke pot, I listen to hip hop, I love big cars, and I smoke menthols...I'm socioeconomically deprived, I've been discriminated against because of my appearance and lack of income. I've been on food stamps...and I'd proudly wear the label. I don't care. Jusy like I don't mind being called a cunt. I'm also sick of white people being on the whole "I can use the n-word...black people do all the time..." Uh, no they don't. As far as I'm concerned, the word "nigga", has morphed itself into an entirely different word...and white people need to get over the fact that they can't use it freely without looking like an asshole. That's just the way shit is. Do it at your own risk. I like that black people have taken back the word. I just wish women would follow suit with the word cunt.

Religion is Stupid.

There ARE intelligent religious people in the world. The trouble with this is, though, that I can't wrap my head around how this is possible. Jews are about the only ones I can really stand at this point. Their beliefs are far-fetched, but not as badly as the rest of these religious intitutuions are, most of the things that they believe don't have to be reworded and re-thought to better suit modern times (in fact, they follow the same doctorine that they have for thousands of years, without the desire to chop peolple's heads off), and they don't shove their beliefs into others' faces. However...
Catholicism-How the fuck can anyone follow a religion that covers up what their religion's leaders have done to rape and molest children? There are thousand of proven cases of this happeneing around the world...and the vatican does nothing to avoid or stop it. Why do priests do this? It can't be all out of celebacy, because if that were the case Bhuddist monks would be molesting children. The reason is because it's ACCEPTED! Then, what's even fucking crazier about Catholic is that even AFTER one has become a victim of a Catholic pedophile, they CONTINUE to follow the religion! What the fuck? Hey, y'all...ya heard this one? What's the difference between a zit and a priest? A zit will at least wait til you're twelve to come on your face...get it??

Islam-ISLAM IS IN NO WAY A "PEACEFUL" OR "LOVING AND TOLERANT RELIGION"! There are peaceful and tolerant muslims in the world, but by their being peaceful and tolerant muslims they are directly forsaking the entire philosophy, doctorine and basis of this fucking nutty religion...which is...STUPID!!! There is no way around what the Quoran states about their endoctorination of violence...it's there...and it means what it says. There is no way to soften, or make the ideology behind enforcing violent, painful, sadistic death upon anyone that doesn't follow their rules nice or gentle. It's not a metaphor. It is what it is...zelous, nutty, and fucking brutal.
Anyone who believes in it or follows it is fucking STUPID. There's just no way around it.

Scientology-"Alien ghosts possessed my body and made me an unhappy person..." MUAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAA!!! Are you serious? The founder of this crackpot religion even publicly stated that "the best way to make money is to start a religion.." Not only that, but the guy dabbled in writing science fiction novels...uh, red flag alert. Not only are they incredibly stupid for believing in such nonsense, but they're in a cult! A cult that packs up children and puts them in camps, where they are dictated and forcibly held until they are adults so that they can make sure they are good n' brainwashed before they send them out among the masses. Do people know that it's a new rule in Scientology that people are no longer allowed to bring children into the religion and that they are paying for and forcing their prishoners to get abortions? Yeah, uhm, how...STUPID!

Mormonism-How can anyone seriously believe that men must have a harem of women to have their babies so that when armegeddon happens in Independence, Missouri, and everyone leaves on their private spaceships to their private planets, it will be easier to repopulate those planets. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

I'm tired of religions, especially CHRISTIANITY, believing that one can be cured of homosexuality...I'm sick of people giving the whole..."Other Christians believe instupid stuff, but not me.."...THEN WHY BELIEVE IN ANY OF IT??? I am not going to follow any group that I cannot stand behind one hundred per cent. Religious, political, or otherwise. That's not the way shit works. That's like saying "I beilieve that 2+2=4, but only some of the time...Here's some videos. I have to stop writing about this cos it's pissing me off and making me hate people.

Pt. 1 of a Nightline profile on Scientology, part two is also online...I just found this right now...after I wrote this...WOW.

I love this guy...I subscribe to his videos...It helps that he's FUCKING HOT...

My Last REAL Post to Myspace...LOL

I'm lonely and bored. That's why I visit social networking sites. I like to look at pretty girls, read interesting blogs, and listen to music on here. I most recently joined facebook, but it isn't like myspace in the respect that I can find people that I don't really know, discover our interests, and maybe become friends. I actually owe myspace for introducing me to a couple of people that I ended up being really close to and would have probably ended up dead without. But, dude...I'm seriously about to delete a bunch of people. I added people to myspace and facebook that I went to school with uh, cos I was nosy, and, admittedly wanted a high number of "friends". Facebook pretty much makes it difficult to find anyone else BESIDES former classmates and acquaintances. I'm really noticing, though, that there was a reason why these people weren't in my life when I joined these sites, and it's because they're either assholes or just simply dull.
Twitter is what really ruined these places. Ever since Twitter shot out of the bowels of satan, all of these sites now feel the need to jump on the status bandwagon, and the whole status thing does nothing but show me what boring, mind-numbing, and excrutiatingly stupid things that people think on a moment to moment basis are now served up several times a day. For example-"I just got done taking out the trash, I gotta drop off Gogo at the dentist, then I'm off to pottery class!" WHO REALLY GIVES A FLYING FUCK? I mean, come on, people. Would it really take that much effort, since you are showing this shit to the world, to say something a bit more profound, intriguing, witty or poetic? Not only do I have to be informed about the meaningless, mundane tasks people are accomplishing in a totally non-entertaining way, but I also have to have how much better other people's lives are rubbed into my face. Then, of course there are the people that have to brag about shit that either they or their spouses buy-"We're out shopping for our new boat today!"..."I got a car for my birthday"...yadda yadda yadda...I can understand it when people post about shit that sucks because they're more than likely seeking supportful and caring words from their peers and it seems to me that when all people can blab about is how fabulous everything is going for them, then they're only doing it to dangle it in other people's faces like kids on the playground the first day back to school after Christmas vacation.
I've also had to deal with this in the Blogging community (jesus, "blogging community"?-I'm a total douche). People have entire blogs centered around their fucking centerpieces at their babyshower, or stupid "travel logs", and shit like, totally dedicated to shit NOBODY that has any interesting qualities to them whatsoever would give a shit about. People spend money on these things. They're chock full of professional photography taken with ridiculously expensive cameras, intricate templates for headers are used that require actual software to produce, and it's fucking ridiculous! Look, if you're an intelligent and artistic person, you'll get what I'm saying by this, if you're not, then fuck off, man, cos I really have no use for dumb people in my life anymore...
your job
your grades
your car
your wedding
how lovely the catering was at your anniversary party
your kids' boogers or the cute shit that they say or do
your vacation
the shitty movie you just spent fifty bucks on watching
your diet
your remodelling project
your recent purchases
your tickets to a sporting event
your Cinco De Mayo party full of white people and white people food
your church yard sale
your bake sale
....you get the point...
Oh, and you people that are trying to act like you're all a bunch of suburbanite soccermoms when you live in rural southern Illinois, give it a rest. That life is a terrible one, and don't try to pride yourself in an attempt to immulate those kind of personality-laden fuckholes. I'd rather hear about trailer park wars and babymamma drama. At least make it seem like there's some substance to your life besides the shit you have and what you did to get it...
unless you sucked a dick for a six pack...
cos that would at least be entertaining.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

I'm Not The Fuckup Anymore...

My brother has often been the recipient of my mother's affections, sympathy, and respect for quite some time now...as far as I can remember, to be more accurate. He was always the one that was handed over the cash to buy name brand clothes when we were in school. He always had the pretty girlfriends who he would betray, to which my mother would always respond, "oh, poor baby, what did she do?", whenever he lost them. I love my brother. I've always looked at him like some kind of cool kid that I could never be. Popular, good-looking, funny, persuasive, macho...but all of of those labels have since faded and only one can suit him these days. As much as I regret having to say it, the only proper term to describe what he has become is Tylenol Junkie.
My brother's addiction wouldn't make me so sore if it weren't for the fact that he is addicted to something so incedibly stupid. He's strung out on Vicodin. What the fuck??? It's fucking tylenol with a fairy's fart worth of codeine in it. He's blowing thousands of dollars in the pursuit of maintaining his dependence, and completely robbing my mother blind to do it. As awful as it sounds, I wish he would just be a little bit wiser about his addiction. If he's going to waste that much money on this beast, he needs to be a little smarter. He needs to just start buying heroin. It's cheaper, and at this stage, is even a healthier avenue.
I did what I've been praying I wouldn't have to do for months and finally called his ex wife today and informed her that she needed to pack up the kids and made sure she had them because he will more than likely be going to jail this week. I know someone is about to prosecute him, and as shitty as it is, I'm not giving him a heads up to avoid his arrest. He's going to DIE. There's already obvious signs of liver failure ravaging his appearance...jaundice, sweating, distended and hardening of the abdominal area...all because he wants to eat fucking tylenol like an idiot. All of the money I could have used from my mom to fix my life and get custody of my son back has gone into purchasing this shit...his desire to be fucking stupid about his chemical dependence has affected my life. I was informed today that his 12 year old daughter's cell phone number had to be changed due to the fact he has been using it to make deals which has resulted in her receiving text messages at school asking her if she wants any pills, or where's my money...That's about enough of that shit. I couldn't allow this to happen to her. That's why I called her mother to make sure she knows the severity of the situation and to make sure those kids aren't around him right now.
The weird thing is...I'm not the fuckup anymore... My family has always shunned me and doted on Matt...mostly because of the fact that he's always had "stuff", was married, and had good jobs. Now they're all eating their own shit. I have always been very honest and open about my own demons, but I've never ripped off my family or portrayed myself as some kind of Suzie High School Betty Crocker character. I know who I am, and I have enough respect for the people in my life to never immulate anything but. ...and here he is...had everyone fooled but me...I was always scolded when I'd tell my family HE cheated and lied and consequently ruined his relationships...HE was stealing from people...HE was the one being a lousy person for the sake of getting off, whether it be with his wiener or otherwise...but no one would believe me cos I didn't lie about myself...where's the logic in that pile of utter ridiculousness?? I just wish it wouldn't have had to come to this in order to make people see it. The other thing is...no one will EVER acknowledge it or apologize to me. I hope that he can get better, but I doubt he ever will. I just wish he'd get wise about the chemicals he's ingesting so that he wouldn't have to rob everyone blind...and I wish he'd give up his kids so that they don't have to go through this.

fat people in entertainment...

I've always wondered...why is it okay for black people and men to be fat in the entertainment business?

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Social Nightmare

I went out with my boyfriend to a tittie bar for my friend's birthday last weekend. I usually love me a good dose of tit-viewing, but the night didn't go as well as expected. As soon as I met my friends, I felt like they were all acting weird...one of them was being oddly too nice and complimentary, one seemed totally distracted, like a kid with severe ADD, and another seemed so uncomfortable and bored that she barely spoke to anyone. Mind you, before my boyfriend and I left out, we put down an entire fifth of rum, and I am known to go nutty when I drink clear liquor. We felt the need to drink heavily to "catch up" with the rest of the group that were obviously fucked up already, judging by the odd way they were all speaking on the phone.
After I go to the club, I became increasingly self-concious about my appearance. All of the strippers working that night were very thin, plus, it was a Friday night, so the place was pretty full, which means an overabundance of total DOUCHES were all around...It wasn't long before I started hating my boyfriend just for being there and having a penis. As the night drug on, my friends seemed to become increasingly distant toward me, so I started going up to the bar to purchase my drinks. I didn't want my boyfriend to give the half retarded waitress anymore money. I'd sooner fetch my own drinks...then...on the way to the bar I heard the statement that changed the course of the night, and the rest of the week...
I overheard a guy ask another guy "who was over in the booths", to which the other replied, "nobody important, a bunch of dogs and their boyfriends..." Instantly, after hearing this, my heart sank. I didn't even know if he was talking about us, but I wanted to turn around and break my fucking beer against one of these guys' heads...I was already feeling fat, useless, and ignored, and that was the straw that broke my back.
I went back to our section, and tried to sit down and drink my beer, but the sheer discomfort of everything was overwhelming me. The shitty music, my friends being shady, the population of dickhole heterosexual males, and, the crowd of naked stupid women with bad taste had taken its toll on my psyche, not to mention how fucking terribly depressed I already had been for the past couple of weeks. I felt the tears coming. I tried to fight them. I looked at my boyfriend, tearful, and said, "I wanna die. I wanna go home." He didn't understand what was coming, so him, being a fucking guy surrounded by tits, of course threw out the first thing he could think of to stall me. "Aren't you gonna tell your friends bye?" UGH. I was trying not to cry and make everyone awkward, thus ruining the night more than I felt I already had by my sheer drunken, stumbling presence. I tried to tell them bye the best I could, but I had to give up, I then just ran out of the place. I literally ran out. I didn't give a fuck if he followed me or not.
I started in on him as soon as he got into the truck, blubbering, screaming, crying. "YOU THINK I'M FAT!" "NO ONE WOULD TALK TO ME UNLESS WE WERE IN THE BATHROOM!!!" "I HATE MYSELF!" "I HATE MEN, I KNOW YOU AREN'T ATTRACTED TO ME, WHY DON'T YOU JUST DUMP ME?" "YOU'RE ONLY WITH ME COS I'LL FUCK YOU, YOU DON'T LOVE ME, YOU'RE JUST DESPERATE!" He had to literally shout at me to get me to shut the fuck up. We stopped and got some food, but i couldn't stop crying long enough to eat it. After we got inside at home, I ran to the bed, crying all the way there, and crying myself to sleep. I woke up at some point and went back into the living room and curled up next to him. Around 6am, we both woke up and went back to the bed only to discover that the sheets were wet..."Did you pee the bed?" "I don't think so..." I bent down and placed my face upon the wet spot. I sniffed it. I couldn't smell anything. I know I had a glass of tea in the bed with me earlier, but the glass was no where to be found. I really don't know if it was pee or not...and we just laid in it, anyway. After being awakened, I couldn't go back to sleep. I ended up getting up, totally suicidal, and with a ball of bitterness toward my friends in my gut. I got online, wrote a quick suicidal blog, and stumbled back to bed.

Thursday, February 18, 2010



Anyone who loves music needs to check out blip.fm. I'm SERIOUS. I never plug anything that isn't totally worth it. Finding so much new music, and it's giving me hope.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Tom Waits and Chocolate Covered Strawberries

I've obviously been pretty depressed lately. I felt a little bit better today, and as stupid as it sounds, I have chocolate and a dirty dream to thank. I took a nap today, and while I was sleeping, I dreamt that I ditched being in a wedding to go hang out with Tom Waits. I had to wait on him in an ancient classic brothel-looking hotel, and while I was waiting there, I had my cousin come over. Her and I drank while we waited on Tom to call us. We met him in a broken down tiny trailer that appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Instantly, upon seeing him, I noticed he had a strange=looking bottle of beer in his hand and we were quickly pawing all over each other like passionate ex lovers that hadn't seen each other in years. Tom, my cousin and I entered the tiny trailer to find that it was full of people that looked like they were imported straight from the late 70s or early 80s and played country music. The trailer was dimly lit and full of clutter that appeared to be alcohol and drug party trash. There was a very tired looking woman in the corner of the room that had apparently been waiting on Tom to bring her a needle to shoot up some form of opiate, and the rest of the people were waiting on him to bring drugs. We all began smoking pot, and something that we smoked out of a pyrex that was never established as to what it was, but when was heated it turned a beautiful bright purplish pink. As we all laughed and did drugs, I sat comfortably upon Tom's lap as he licked my face and gave me deep, warm kisses.

This is what the scene in the dream reminded me of.

After I woke up, I felt refreshed, and my friend called me to inform me that she was on her way with a surprise for me. She showed up with a bag of home made chocolate covered strawberries, and I immediately dove into them. We then left the apartment and went out for crab legs and sushi at a local buffet. I swear, both the dream and the snacks snapped me out of my being suicidal. I don't know how, but all of the morbid and deathly thoughts I had had for the past week were flushed from my brain. When I returned from the restaraunt, I prepared my boyfriend some home made stir fry and gave him one of the strawberries. We then went to bed and I shagged the holy hell out of him. I fell asleep, naked and sweat covered, only to be awakened by another dream about Tom Waits...I got up and had me another strawberry. Weird.

Monday, February 15, 2010

For The Day

I did not love you for that week
I did not love you for that year

lust did play a factor,
but not as well as fear

and as I sit here writing
an attempt to just forget

I feel my head grow heavier
and my cunt swell and get wet

I ignored that you were too puny
I ignored that you were unwell

I paid only the attention
that a man craves in hottest hell

I cannot cure this longing
in my loins and in my gut

I've always been your buddy
I refuse to be your slut

I did not love you for that month
I did not love you for that season

You don't need an explaination
you don't deserve a reason

I love you for a lifetime
I need not apologize

for the pain inside my gullet
or the ache between my thighs

WHAT Am I Good At?

Someone told me to make a list of things that I'm good at so that it might make me feel a little better about myself. It only made me feel worse. To be one hundred percent honest the things thing that I am absolutely fantastic at aren't going to get me anywhere in life.

taking care of kids-I've always been really great with children. Not just as a playmate, but also as an effective and balanced disciplinarian and teacher. However, it's really depressing to think about because the thing that makes it suck is that I'm unable to financially support a kid, and I probably always will be. It's fucking sad that because of this, I can't even raise MY own son. Another thing that sucks about this is that I could never make a living through childcare because I have a record and the people that could afford to pay me to raise their kids act like if someone has a record then they're gonna cook the dog and rape their kids.

writing-Whether it be a poem, a story, an essay, an article, or a song, I have always been quite proficient in writing of all kinds. However, it doesn't fucking matter. I can't go to school, and even if I could go back to school it would have to be through a fast and cheap series of courses to obtain a job or career that's pay would barely get me by. Besides that, I'm TERRIBLE at dumbing things down, and in order for most of anyone to have any interest in your writing, dumbification is a definite must. I'm still decent at it, but the only time my writing can really shine is when its done on MY terms. I don't write as well on topics that do not interest me, or topics that I cannot give my own opinion on.

dancing-No one wants to see a fat girl dance unless it's so that they can laugh at her. A fat girl dancing is the entertainment equivalent to male nudity. Even if it's good, it's still a joke.

giving blowjobs-This one is super riciulous. I can give blowjobs that are legendary...especially if I've had enough time to figure out what kind a man likes to have. YES, different men like to have their cocks sucked in different ways. Some guys like teeth, some don't, some like hard sucking, some prefer it to pretty much just be slobbed on...etc, etc. No one's gonna pay me to suck their penis, and even if they would, I don't think they could ever offer me a fair price, because, once again, I have the whole "fat" thing...Which I don't quite understand how it's relevent.

There are a plethora of things that I'm good at, I guess, but they're all fucking useless. Since I live in this shithole called the USA, no talent is worth a fuck if you can't get paid to exploit it, and in my case, I suck at anything I could be paid to do.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Let Me Die In Chaos

I'd like to warn everyone that I love to stay away from me right now, but it's total insanity because at the the same time I need them all. It doesn't make a bit of damn sense. As I type this, I'm not even sober enough to stand. I hid my phone from myself so that I wouldn't call anyone and tell them to stay away from me. Earlier tonight I just wanted to start a fight or walk into traffic. I was confused as to which I would decide on doing, so I just ran, I literally ran... I've never been like this.
After I got home I tried to go to sleep, but every time I began to drift off I had extremely vivid nightmares that my friends were beating me up and that my boyfriend was helping them. So here I am, at 7:30am, still awake and drunk. This can't end well.
MY poor, poor boyfriend. My poor, poor friends. I just wanted to be mean. Burn another bridge. Cut them all off... so it will be easier for me to die. Really, that's what this is all about. I'm preparing for my death.
I'm more fucked up than a soup sandwich. MY lips are sore. I've bitten them into two bloody lumps of exposed flesh on my face...without amphetamines. Just so that I wouldn't say or do anything to hurt anyone. What the fuck??? I don't even understand myself right now.

Friday, February 12, 2010

The Guy That Raped A 3 Yr. Old...(And still rapes my mind)

This is the first time I've ever written anything about my "dad", well, I don't know who my real dad is, but that's another story...The reason I'm a slut, the reason I started habitually masturbating at age three, the reason I hold so much resentment toward my mother...
He was always a buzzkill. No laughter was allowed unless HE was laughing. No music was allowed unless he was playing it, sometimes naked sitting in the floor of my bedroom in front of my turntable, ruining my LPs by drunkenly throwing them around as neglected cigarette ashes fell onto his huge erect penis. I used to have a few VHS tapes with recorded proof of what he put us through, just in case he killed us. I'm not sure where they are.
A few months ago I was going through some childhood photos of mine that were stashed away in a storage shed on my mom's property. A lot of what I found was disturbing. There was an album of vacation photos in an album from our trip to Nassau. In more than one of what were supposed to be happy cuddly pictures of me and my daddy, his hands are on my crotch. In another series of pics, I'm in the bathroom crying because he won't stop taking snaps of me while I was on the toilet or while I was changing my clothes. I'm obviously screaming and crying, not in a playful or comical way at all, either. I can't believe my mom would compile these things into a scrap book to be looked at as if they're cute or endearing.
A couple of weeks ago I was staying at my cousin's and her girlfriend was making a snack. As she was preparing it, the smell whafted up into my nostrils. She asked me if I had ever eaten it before. I didn't even look over. I knew what it was. I just asked, "It's peanut butter and pancake syrup, isn't it? I hate it and it reminds me of something awful. I don't want any." I could feel the chunks of bile and stress acids crawling up my throat as I ran into the other room. I felt like I wanted to cry or cuddle someone, just get away from it. My dad ate that shit every night for the sixteen years of hell that I had to live with him. He spread it onto saltines. A couple of times when I was really small, he made me lick it off of his penis. He also used to do this with honey or butter, or a combination of the two, but for some reason that doesn't make me as ill as the peanut butter and syrup thing does. I guess it's because I had to smell that shit every fucking night.
I worry every day that he's out there molesting, raping or beating another kid somewhere. Sometimes I wonder if he ever did it to any of my little cousins and that maybe that's why they all hate me and tend to avoid me. I had originally planned to write more, but it's too nauseating and upsetting.

Robert DeNiro's character in this movie always reminded me of him. This whole fight over an empty mustard jar is the kind of shit he did all the time. I threatened to fight back once, but I didn't. I just ran out the back door. I was on probation at the time, and of course, my parent's reported me. When the cops found me, I had to go to court and ended up going to fucking prison for a year as they stood by and did nothing. My mom never attempted to protect me. Sometimes she would scream, "Stop it Jeff, you're gonna kill her!" or "Don't punch her in the face, we'll go to jail..." but that was about as far as it went.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Pot Connection

Okay, I'll just get it out of the way and let everyone who doesn't already know that I smoke pot. I'm not the annoying lazy stupid pothead type that has to smoke a ridiculous amount on a daily basis in order to keep my sanity, I just like to have about five to twenty bucks worth of pot on hand so that I can periodically take a couple of hits here and there throughout the day. After I run out, I don't feel the aching need to go on an adventure or play hours of phone tag to buy more, and really, now that I think about it, I really don't even care for spending money on the shit. I could get by for a month on what bigtime potheads throw away...the crumbs they sweep from tables and trays, the roaches or roach papers they discard, or even the resin that they push through their pipes and pitch into the trash.

I know people who are actually fucking retarded that can get a bag whenever they feel like it. I know people that are fucking known narcs that don't even have to look for it, people will bring it TO them. Pregnant women, cops, fucking church deacons...It seems like the entire community of chiefers in my area, regardless of how sketchy their habits are, can seemingly effortlessly obtain a ganj buzz while it is nearly impossible for me to even find a fucking joint. Every once in a while (especially in times like NOW when I'm fucking depressed and in physical pain) I'd like to just have a pinch...Why the fuck is it so hard for me to find a reliable pot connection?

Most of my friends smoke pot, HELLA more than I do, and usually have a bit on hand, but for some reason, no matter how close they are to me, won't even offer me a tiny bud to enjoy for when I'm at home. They'll smoke me out when I'm around, but get all huffy if I ask to buy a miniscule amount to have around for me-time. To tell you the truth, the times that I like to be stoned the best are when I'm relaxing by myself, listening to music, or watching the tube, which is something I do believe potheads fucking can relate to, so why the bloody fuck do I get all the "I'm not a drug dealer" static from them when I ask if I can scrape their fucking resin?

It doesn't help that I now live in an area where I barely know anyone, and the people I do know are fucking stiffs that don't do anything illegal. It's not like there's a convention where you can find pot dealers looking for clients. Not only that, but even if I did find a dealer, I'd be a shitty ass client because I would barely be buying anything from them. I don't even need a dealer, I really just need a fellow pothead that doesn't mind giving me a bud a week. I can't afford to buy large amounts of the fucking shit, and I'm generally not a fan of spending over twenty bucks on ANYTHING, let alone on stupid fucking pot.

I understand that people have to be careful who they trust when it comes to shit like this, but half of the time the people that are so fucking paranoid about who they'll sell a spliff to are the same jerk off dolts that will post pictures of themselves smoking on the internet or have potleaves all over their myspace pages...where's the logic in that?

All in all when it comes down to it, maybe I just need to accept the fact that potheads are generally annoying people that practice plenty of philosophies that don't make any sense. For instance, hippies that don't bathe but drive brand new cars, so-called intellectuals that couldn't tell you the name of a single philosopher, white kids that wear Bob Marley tshirts but don't know who Haile Silassi is or use the word nigger on a steady basis, thugs that wanna follow some kind of street code by keeping their suppliers a secret yet they will smoke out in the open in a bar parking lot, cops that wanna bust people's balls for not having insurance and claim to respect and follow the law while they screw underage girls and get high like cheech n chong, parents, students, and employees that are so paranoid about losing their kid, scholarship, or job but have to be high to deal with all of them, etc. etc. etc...Well, I'm not any of the above and I don't think I should have to resort to being any of the above so that I can be considered a person risk free and safe enough to sell a joint to.

Oh, and for anyone reading this that is prudish enough to believe that this blog post could get me into any trouble, you're an idiot. Cops wouldn't be even remotely interested in me considering how this post has elucidated the fact that I don't even know any drug dealers, never have anything on me worth busting, and I couldn't even tell them where I could obtain a mesely gram of wacky weed. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. I wish I had something to put in mine.

Have A Very Happy VD, Y'all...(vids & commentary)

This is Mr. Henry Charles Bukowski, one of my favorite poets...in a drunken arguement with his then fiance, Linda. I hate to say it, but I have been guilty of being the Bukowski in a couple of my early relationships...but Jesus, I learned how to stop being such an immature turd, this guy's, like, in his late fifties here. Then again, with Uncle Buke being the tortured soul and ugly man that he was, he didn't even have a real girlfriend until he was in his mid twenties. On top of that, he ended up becoming famous, and that always changes everything.

This tiny, short little bit of an interview really made me think about all of the loves of my past, and of course, about my current and future relationships. Looking back on the boys I once lived with or even dated compared to the man I live with now, it seems like the one I have now came from a different planet than they did. It's so true that the older you get the deeper love you need...deeper in the respect that one needs a higher level of understanding, a different kind of attatchment, and a new sort of companionship and comfort that your first loves never seem to measure up to. This is one reason why I can't understand why anyone would want to, for instance, marry their high school sweetheart. As one matures, I believe that their unions, friendships, sex, and the needs and wants also mature, and morph as we grow older. If anyone really ever actually finds someone on the first try that does that without any otherworldly influence, it has to be a miracle of sorts...and I'm not even sure if I believe in miracles.

Just watch and listen to the story...I shouldn't have to explain it...it's all here.

Whoever did this...nice job, man... I get it.

I was just gonna post the love scene that from this movie with this song, but youtube is stupid...there isn't even any nudity in it!!! But anyway, it's my favorite love scene from a movie...for some reason I have a real problem with heterosexual love scenes...they just hardly ever seem like they have any significance to the rest of the film and usually are put in there for gratuitous purposes. I'm even more biased when it comes to girl love because in my opinion, when it's real, it's the purest, most sweet and emotional form of love there is. Think about it, all of the raw emotion that a woman naturally possesses bound with another woman's passionate longing and impulsivity... I just can't find anything dirty about it.

I KIND OF know what a situation like this is like as far as not being able to be with someone you love and having to deal with them being in your life, then you need the next best thing so you end up banging their best friend or sibling, and, of course, there not being a god damned thing you can do to make it go away...but I've never been in love with anyone I'm adoptively related to...that must suck...

I'm not that big of a fan of this movie, but I say this kind of shit to my boyfriend almost every day... Doesn't anyone else feel that way, ya know, when something's so fucking cute you feel like it shouldn't exist or needs to be destroyed?

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

My funeral

I hope no one spends a bunch of money on my funeral. It would really piss me off because there's a small amount of money I have needed to put my affairs in order to fix the largest problems in my life and if the only way that I could get my family to plunk it down would be in my time of dying, it would be very frustrating. I'd really just like to see every one drunk and dancing to music I would approve of. I hope that my death will make those who chose to neglect me and refused to offer me any help make a change in their own way of doing things. I hope that they will think twice before neglecting anyone else in their life who needs them. ...And I hope that they'll play this song at the end of my service.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

My love/hate relationship with cock bearers

I love me a good dose of penis. I can't lie and say that I don't. However, I hate the way the male's mind works. I hate that just because a guy knows I love vagina they automatically assume I have the same taste (or lack therof) in women that they do. I'm tired of getting the elbow nudge and point over a generic-ass hot girl like "hey, look at that". Nigga, like I give a fuck. I don't know that bitch and there's nothing interesting about the fact that she has what every swingin' dick would consider hot. It's hard to explain, but I'll do my best to. Men have no taste when it comes to what they consider attractive. Anything thin and dressed like a skank can be labelled as beautiful by a man where for a woman to be considered "hot" by my standards, I have to hear them speak in order to determine whether or not they're intelligent, they have to have distinctive features in the face and body, and they have to have a tasteful sense of style. I'm also a face person. No matter how much I love big bouncy titties and asses, that isn't worth a fuck to me if the girl possessing them doesn't have an interesting face to go along with it. In fact, I can ignore a girl's fat rolls, cellulite, scars, and other physical flaws if she has a pretty face. As far as television, pornography, and other imagery goes, anything displaying a bunch of naked, bikini-clad, striiper-clothed, or lingerie-draped sluts is a huge turn on for dudes, when I just consider hoez like that a dime-a-dozen, completely non-intriguing, and boring. I'm so tired of fucking MAN shows full of "hot" girls and dumb MAN jokes.

Aside from all of the physical attraction bullshit, men make some of the dumbest excuses for their behavior. In fact, the only excuse they have more times than not is simply "I did (whatever) cos, uhm, well, I'm a dude." I don't understand how a dude can stick his dick in a bitch that he despises. There ain't no way in hell I'd let anyone I hate get near my genitals nor would I get near theirs. I don't care how hard up I am. My sexual oraphices are special to me and I have to have some level of respect for someone to allow them to reap the benefits they are capable of giving. As women, we of course all have the fear of being labelled the "nagging bitch" by our significant others. To a guy the term "nagging bitch" could mean that a female simply opened her mouth, acknowledged the fact that she felt an emotion, or had an opinion. I'm not denying the fact that there are naggy women out there...but for every one of them there are just as many naggy, or should I say whiney-ass dudes. I'm also so sick of men being allowed to make inappropriate comments in our presence about other women or about us. Unless we respond with a giggle or no response at all, then we're "over-reacting", or "blowing things out of proportion". Never mind the fact that our feelings may have been hurt. "Sorry, honey, I'M A GUY..." Fuck you. How would y'all like it if we complained to your face about an inconsistency in your sexual performance, pointed out your physical flaws, or talked about how wet we got over another guy? You know god damned good and well you'd get your feelings hurt and that you would probably make a comment about it in one way or another. However, if a woman does this, you guys disregard the fact that she's HUMAN and credit our reaction to being female. I like to think that I'm pretty good about judging when and where my opinions are wanted or needed, but I still fall victim to this whole dilemma.
As far as the "I'm a guy" crap goes, I don't think men would like it too much if every time we fucked up we just shrugged our shoulders and said our actions were taken out of having a cunt.

Men are fucking nasty, inconsiderate, ignorant, selfish sluts.


Did cum run down your leg while you hung above the multitude?
Just as it did for the boy ravaged by guilt for having it happen to him
as he felt his Godly father thrusting inside of his colon?

Did you delight in the betrayal, did you become aroused by the fatal kiss?
Can you speak for the others touched by your father through the hands of his chosen warriors?

The holy ballgag, the divine spanking, the olympian nipple clamp
the proverbial anal speculum of the javelin in your side.

Did your loving father lead you to galgotha by pulling on a leash?
Did you take the candles from the altar and drip the wax down your chest?

I think you're more like me that anyone would like to admit.
You don't deserve my stilletto ground into your spineless back.

I'm A Terrible Person

So this girl has been posting youtube videos of herself talking about how suicidal she is. She's been posting them for about two years now. I finally left her a comment on one of them. You know what I told her? I told her that if her depression is that bad that it's only going to get worse as she grows older, especially if she has no artistic outlet to find solace in. I said that if she's really tried everything, i.e. counseling, medications, etc., that there really probably is nothing left for her to do. Major depression fucking sucks, and psychotropic medications turn you into a zombie or give you violent mood swings. I had one anti depressant that I was on that worked okay, but I always felt washed over and like I was walking in a fog. Not only did it just generally make me feel "weird", I couldn't write, draw, or even jack off while I was on the shit. What's the fucking point of living that way if you can't even cum? It also ruined sex for me. It almost felt like someone might as well have been shoving their dick into my armpit. It was awful. I really believe there are people with incessant emotional and mental pain and that there is nothing in the world that can fix it. Illegal drugs can make you feel good, expressing yourself through some avenue of artistry can help, and food can give some comfort, but besides that, the pain never goes away. As age changes, bitterness grows, which inevitably only pushes one deeper into their own thoughts and despair. I do believe that for some, it is easier to die.

Monday, February 8, 2010


Sunday, February 7, 2010

Loving loathing ones I love

I wish for once in my life I could meet someone who I hold absolutely no resentment toward. It seems like no matter how much I love or respect someone, I always hold some kind of bitterness for something about them. Their looks, their situations, their job, their boyfriend, their taste, their interests...anything is up for my picking at it. I don't understand it. I don't know if it's some kind of defense mechanism so that when they disappoint me it will be easier for me to wholly ignore and dislike them, or if it's just that I'm simply nothing more than an unappreciative asshole. I'm fearful that I will eventually end up secretly despising new people in my life and they will have done nothing to deserve it. Looking back at everyone whom has fallen victim to this whole outlook of mine I have noticed that everyone else did deserve it at some point in time, but what about the times when they didn't? It's like I can't let even the simplest of things "go". As faggy as it sounds, I really truly believe that absolutely no one "gets" me and that I am completely alone in this world. The one person I have that comes the closest still isn't close enough because he's a man, and I just can't accept that any man could completely understand a woman...but that's a whole 'nother topic.
Sometimes I wish that I'd just do enough drugs or get into some kind of car accident that would result in severe head trauma so that my brain damage could wipe out the way my brain functions. It isn't anyone else in my life's fault for the rotten things that other people have done to me, yet I continue to make everyone in my life pay for others' wrongdoing toward me. Not only that, but I involuntarily find little niches about people whom I admire and respect and just cut them down in my mind to the point that I begin to feel stupid or guilty for being their friend or lover. Sometimes I wonder if I should just completely shut myself off from everyone, but then I get lonely and, even worse than lonely, I get BORED. It's total insanity..."Love me love me love me...play with me, tell me I'm cool, EW! You disgusting retch! How dare you complain to me about your life! Look at mine!..." etc, etc,...
Maybe part of it IS boredom. Maybe I have such an insatiable charcter that I grow tired of everyone as quickly as I do everything. That isn't right. I shouldn't be treating people as though they're breakfast cereal...but what can I do to stop it?

Fat Miley

I don't know why I hate her...
It isn't her beauty,
for that once was the only thing that drew me to her

and as she gains respect
my contempt for her grows.

She has become unredeemable.
A worthless fucking coupon.

I hold no sympathy
for her motherless upbringing
or her fatherless child.

I only feel disgusted
as people's opinions of her change
and the insults turn

to vaguely benign statements.

Hate her with me. Hate her with me.
Throw stones at her pretty face.

Spit into her wounds.
Steal her fucking paycheck.

And sell it back to her with dope.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Wanna Laugh?

Okay, so this guy's name is Ted Pillman, and I can't figure out who he really is. I thoroughly researched him via the interwebs, and came back with nothing. When I found this video I watched it and couldn't get the damn lyrics to this and his other song "Big Titted Bitch" out of my head for months. From the evidence shown in his videos, the guy lives in LA, and has an obsession with bodily functions and misogony. Whatta combo, eh? During my research I found out that a Ted Pillman had died in the Los Angeles right around the time of my searching his name and I got kind of bummed, but I later found out that it wasn't the same guy as he continued to make stupid fart vids and replied to my Youtube comments. I do think the filth on his face and the rags the guy wears are a costume, but the filth in this dude's crib is REAL, as proven by the cockroach scurrying on the wall behind him.

I don't know why, but this video has always cracked me up. It was supposedly a big deal when it came out because of the whole new "morphing" trick, that was later improved and featured in Michael Jackson's "Black or White" video. I always totally lose it on the one at 1:29, and of course when it gets all seriously high pitched at the end and they're just screaming "CRYYYYYY!!!".

"How can I be sure you're not pretender?" LOL...Broken English is always hilarious when it's supposed to be all serious-like. After the first time I saw this, I continued to watch it and the song actually kind of grew on me to where I kind of actually liked it. Well, after all, I AM an ABBA fan...

I had to do it. She's so serious! This bitch actually thinks someone was gonna take her seriously when she made this. You know she's singin about a lady, too. She has to be. She paid for all of the production of her videos thinking that some major label was going to pick her up. Ah! It's knee slapping awfulness.

Suicide Bummer

I think about suicide almost every day. Sometimes when I see a household chemical or am prescribed a new medication for something I look up to see if death can be caused when it is ingested. I just found out that Something I've had on hand for quite some time can paralyze the lungs and kill you if overdosed, bu then I read on to discover that it is a very slow and horrific experience similar to being suffocated.
In my Binge Blog, I wrote about my last bout of major depression. I had it all figured out. I was going to visit my mom, steal her Baretta and the bullets that she kept in its case, and blow my brains out in her basement. I was going to do this on a Monday afternoon, after I spent the morning having a visit with my son. I planned on doing this immediately after he left.
The Saturday before I had this lined out, my mom called me to inform me that her house had been robbed by my brother who is severely addicted to Oxycontin, Duragesic patches, Vicodin, well, anything he can get his hands on. He was always the better sibling, favoured by my mother on every level, always spoiled and given handout to constantly. On this particular Saturday, he brought his baby over to play with my mom. My brother left the baby with my mom in the kitchen. Since my mom only has one leg and had an infant on her lap, this made an opporotunity for my brother to have time to basically runsack the house while she sat there with the child. He stole her fucking gun.
I was so angry. What about my plan? God damn it. I looked at it as a sign that I needed to stick around a bit longer. I'm kind of glad that I did because a couple of weeks I had a life changing experience with my best friend.

Friday, February 5, 2010

After February

This February will determine what I do with the rest of my life...If things don't go well, I'm going to basically die or fall off of the map...OR BOTH. I don't know if I'll end up being a hobo, prostitute, or a smelly nomadic weirdo, but regardless, I know I won't be sticking around here to rot. My mind will be so plagued with sadness that I'll have to either be constantly high or having some kind of fun. There's no way I'll be able to just live a normal, stiff, boring life. The court date will determine the fate of my duty as a mother, and if I lose my child, I will no longer have any kind of reason to be a straight citizen. People are always quick to tell me "You can't do this for your kid...you have to do it for yourself"...Well, that's bullshit cos I don't want to break my back working in a fucking fast food restaraunt for next to nothing...the only reason I would ever endure such hell would be for the sake of my kid, and I if I don't have him, I have no desire to live in such a way.

My Ugly Blog

I know that my blog is ugly and very, uhm, how shall I say, tacky, but then again I'm finding that many people on here that have the tech-savy blogs are fucking so lacking in substance that they are mind-numbingly dull. Yeah, the pictues and complicated headers are nice to look at, but the WRITING is mostly made up of shit that should be kept in a personal diary because there's absolutely nothing worth reading. I'd like to think that maybe someday my blog will actually have followers and visually stimulating adornments, but for now I'm happy with my simple ugly little worthless blog.
I know if I had a handful of speed I could probably figure all of this crap out and take the time to make it look better, but I don't have the attention span to work on it at this point.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

My Brutal Opinion of America...Here Come The Death Threats

In the past I've always defended my own claim to be proud of my country and my rights as an American.

The truth is...it's bullshit. Aside from being glad that I have freedom of speech, I fucking hate this country and everything it stands for. If you know me and my personality, you'd know that if I lived in a country where there was no freedom of speech, I'd die or be imprisoned, and take my punishment with my chin proudly pointed up. I also think It's such a shame that the beauty the American landscape provides is shrinking. I don't care if that makes me sound like a hippie. I'm not proud of America's brutal foreign policy. I don't support the war. I used to say that just because I didn't support the war didn't mean that I didn't support our troops, but ya know what? I don't support them, either. If someone wants to voluntarily subject themselves to the possibility of killing people for a shitty cause, they're bloodthirsty assholes. There's no honor in fighting this war, if you ask me. I don't feel that way about ALL servicemen, but I do about the majority of them. Take a poll of people in the US military and I bet it will come back that most of them are raised in Christian Republican homes. I think that America is fucking generic. I think it's ridiculous how our politics are lumped into two parties, a one-size fits all culture wrapped in supposed good intention and friendly competition when the truth is that America just wants to swallow the world whole just as we do with our fatass lame cuisines. I'm sick of people gushing about the illusion of the "American Dream", which is, all in all, a bunch of cronyism and nepitism. Americans are generally stupid and close-minded assholes. America has always claimed to be the good guys when the US has rubbed elboes with some of the most evil dictators in world history...including Hussein and Stalin...until it wasn't working out, then we lynched them. Isn't it great how you never hear about Stalin nearly as much as you do about Hitler, too? It's so nice that we neglect the history of genocide that fucker initiated with two or three times the fucking death toll than Hitler's regime ended up with. I'd leave if I could. This place is a disaster. The whole origin and foundation of this country is based on raping, enslaving, murdering, and intimidating our way into getting whatever we're after. How can anyone take pride in that? Then, of course, I have to deal with the dumb-assness of flag-waving yellow ribbon crowd members, which most the time are stupid fucking rednecks that haven't the slightest clue what they're even bitching about when they rag on people like me for excersizing the freedom they all claim to be protecting and advocating. These so-called patriots not only claim to celebrate freedom while refusing my right to exploit it, they also ignore the social movements that fought for and won such freedoms. Oh, and let's not forget the whole "derka-derk-y dink dink TERRORISTS"...America's had its hand in plenty of it's own terrorism! We're fat and stupid. I hate it. I hope to fucking god, for the sake of my kid or kids I can get the fuck out of here before the world mans up and bombs us off of the map. Hmmm...It probably won't even have to come to that. We'll probably destroy it ourselves.

Kanye West

Kanye West should get into another car accident. Let's just hope that if he does death's design will have fulfilled his destiny and tore his entire brain out through his mouth. That's was what was supposed to happen, ya know. His fucking prominent horse jaw and teeth prevented it from happening and just enforced th laws of inertia to cause it to jar itself back into his giant head.
I wouldn't feel all of this hostility and hatred for Kanye if he hadn't basically claimed to be god. He starts jacking himself off in interviews talking about how much of a musical genius he is after releasing a single that he raps terrible lyrics over another song in. Then the next album he puts out is him singing awful songs through a vocal tuner for 35 minutes. That's not genius, that's glorified karaeoke. cocksucker.

The Most Annoying Fanbases

Not That I HATE all Of these Things, BUT...

Jeff Dunham
Larry The Cable Guy
Dane Cook
Kid Rock
Jennifer Lopez
Tony Stewart
Lil Wayne
Chris Brown
Jennifer Aniston
Barack Obama
Stephanie Meyers
Robert Pattinson
Megan Fox
Sean Combs
Chicago Cubs
New England Patriots
Boston Red Sox
Jena Jameson
50 Cent
Backstreet Boys (yes, they exist, and they're RABID)
Mariah Carey
The Eagles
Clay Aiken
Taylor Swift
Uhm, for that mater any new country artist
Janis Joplin
Fall Out Boy
Andy Worhol
Michael Moore
Anne Coulter
Rocky Horror
Bud Light
Taco Bell
Fucking Vampires and 'witches'
Forensic Entertainment
US Military
Martial Arts
Mixed Martial Arts Fighting/UFC
Bam Margera
Movie Remakes
Alien Ant Farm (thank god they're extinct)
Daniel Radcliffe
Ellen Degeneres
Adam Sandler
Will Ferell
Chris Farley
Motley Crue
The Beatles
Dave Matthews
The Veronicas
Big Trucks

Wonder What Men REALLY Think?

Men like to complain about the way women word things and neglect to say what's really on their minds. Did you ever wonder if you could crack the guy code when it comes to their choices in vocabulary, questions, and statements? I've put together a few translations for as to what men are REALLY trying to say during our conversations with them. Pay attention to as well as get a laugh out of them.

She'd be hot if she dressed sexier.
Translation: I'd pay more attention to her if she wore something that was about five to eight years out of style, at least three sizes too small, or appears to have been ripped off of the back of a twelve year old.

I like a girl with a little meat on her bones.
Translation: I can stand a bit of ass and hips and will totally fuck a fat chick if I'm drunk enough.

I don't want to be tied down. I like variety.
Translation: I'm a total slut. I don't mind a little dick now and then, either.

What's goin on, bro? Where's your other half?
Translation: I will totally try to fuck your girlfriend.

(If repeated before or after sex) Dude, I'm so drunk!
Translation: I am going to deny even knowing your name if anyone finds out that we did it.

You're cute.
Translation: You aren't attractive enough to be called hot, but I'll still stab it if you let me.

You have beautiful eyes.
Translation: You have beautiful nipples.

Lesbians are hot, fags are disgusting!
Translation: I am terrified I'll be turned on by a guy at some point in my life.

I only date younger women.
Translation: I only date girls that are dumb enough to be oblivious to how much of a lying prick I am and once they wise up I dump them and cry like a baby while jacking off and repeating their name.

I like you better without makeup, honey.
Translation: I feel safer when you don't wear makeup because fewer guys pay attention to you.

Is my penis small?
Translation: I know my penis isn't small and love to hear about how huge it is.

I'm sorry.
Translation: Fuck! I should have covered my tracks better.

That girl looks like a total slut.
Translation: I hope that girl is a slut because I wish I could bang her.

I'm afraid to have sex with you while you're pregnant...it might hurt the baby.
Translation: I'm not touching you until your stictches are healed because you're a disgusting cow.

YOUR Vagina

Many women despair about the size, shape, and color of their genitals. Most men believe total myths surrounding the appearance and sexual effects and performance of a woman's vagina. For instance, the whole myth concerning looseness/tightness. "Slutty women are loose, if a woman has had sex with a lot of men, then her vaginal opening/canal is considerably wider than a woman who has had fewer sexual partners..." -bull fucking shit. The size of a woman's vagina is something she's born with. Kegels don't make your vagina "tighter", it simply strengthens the muscles within it which can cause a more dramatic "grip" if you will whenever the vagina's involuntary and forced contractions occur during intercourse. Don't feel bad about yourself if your vagina's opening is large. Don't make your twat sore incessantly excersizing it, don't cry if a guy talks about your stuff being loose to his dumbfuck friends, there's a simple solution to this problem-GET YOURSELF A BIGGER DICK TO FUCK.

There's another myth about excess labia. Men have gone off of the illusion of what's in pornographic magazines that a cunt is supposed to be nothing more than a hairless crack. First of all, porno mags airbrush labia out of the shots. It seems to me that men don't even look at the women they sleep with's vaginas, which is ridiculous. Girls, there is absilutely NOTHING wrong with you if you have excesss labia. In fact, I think it's kind of dumb to call it "excess"...it's there, most smaller woman have it, and it's part of their vagina. Adding the word "excess" to it just makes it seem like it's a malignant growth, something that's supposed to be cut off or that gets in the way or tripped over. That, too is ridiculous.
Some women feel the need to excessively fill their poor little love mittens full of powders, creams, and douches out of fear that some asshole guy is going to broadcast that they stink down there. A vagina is its own little eco system full of ever present fungi, enzymes and bacteria that are needed to keep a chemical balance that is necessary to fight infections that can occur in the vagina, felopian tubes, urethra, urinary tract, and bladder. Every vagina has a scent. Sometimes the scent is stronger based on your diet, hair type, and evironment, but, unless it smells like something rancid or EXTREMELY fishy, there's nothing wrong with it and it is actually worse for your "works" to fill it full of chemicals constantly. Sweatiness is yucky, but if you're worried about sweat and moisture apply a bit of anti-perspirant to the surrounding area. It isn't necessary to shove anything full of germ killing chemicals inside of you. The germs in your lady glove are there for a reason. It isn't supposed to smell like a rose garden. Your butthole stinks, too, but do you give yourselves enimas daily to make it "fresh"? No, you don't, and if you do, there's something wrong with you. One thing that can make you smelly down there is a dirty penis or internal ejaculation, but guys don't ever feel pressed to shove stuff in their pisshole or douse it in antisceptic solutions on a consistent basis, now do they?
Give your vagina a name and ignore anyone who bad mouths it. Mine's named Pinkerton, and I love it. Be good to it. Take care of it. Give it a break. It's YOURS, not anyone else's.