I Need To Get Fucked But Not By A Stranger

October 31, 2011 § 5 Comments

Dear Suit,

I do feel like fucking. I need to be fucked right now, in the roughest manner possible, with a lot of nipple pinching and tit grabbing and just really mashing them really hard. Sucking would be nice, too. And I don’t need it to last too long. Just a quick, rough one-off with a pal. I just got dumped, and it happened at the total wrong time, because I am just about to bleed any day now and my tits are huge, and that’s when I love sex the most.

I’ve come to accept that in some ways I’m nothing at all like a man. I got this friend, let’s just call him Malicious Macos, who can’t go longer than a month fucking the same chick before he loses interest and she just becomes another one of his fucking go-to pals for cooking him stew and getting drunk with him while he expresses a genuine interest in their personalities. He’s done fucking them, though. He’ll most likely never be able to get a boner around them again, unless they show up right after he already started jerking off. « Read the rest of this entry »


Diary 9/7/11: Gas Powered Leaf Blower

October 24, 2011 § Leave a comment

A fucking gas powered leaf blower going. Which is illegal,right? Gas powered leaf blowers are banned. But I have never seen a leaf blower operating without the sound of a fucking outboard motor blasting. The ban on gas powered leaf blowers has had absolutely zero effect. What did they do— was there some amnesty where you could turn in your gas powered leaf blower in exchange for a toy or something? For an electric powered leaf blower? I’ve never once seen anybody using an electric powered leaf blower.
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OK, fuckstick: how about YOU make ME laugh

October 22, 2011 § 2 Comments

Because we all know you like to be made to laugh; you’ve told us, over and over and over again.  Collectively you have said “live laugh love” or “make me laugh” a thousand million billion times.  Or you’ve put up the whorish-sounding “make me laugh and you can make me do anything.” Make me laugh and you can sneak it in my ass, is that what this means?  Make me laugh and you can jerk off in my mouth while watching porn?  Make me laugh and I will fuck guys off craigslist and bring you back the money?  I mean, I shouldn’t complain about this– I am not a professional comedian, but I consider myself funny.  And girls do in fact “do anything,” although the “anything” that I’m asking for is just to fuck me in the most vanilla manner imaginable.  I don’t require that they cook me a meal or take me on a date or engage me intellectually or anything, and they certainly haven’t offered.  Make me laugh and you can make me do anything.  That pretty much spells it out– you bring the personality, I’ll bring the pussy.

And frankly not much else.  I know this is sexist and has been done to death, but why are girls so fucking unfunny if they like funniness so much?  It’s like fat guys who are really into televised sports.  If you consider this activity to be the greatest thing in the world, why don’t you go out in the park and toss a fucking football around once in a while?  If this thing brings you so much pleasure, why aren’t you interested in creating some of it yourself?  Why do you have to be a completely passive participant?  Don’t you want– like, even if you just selfishly want to be made to laugh without having to contribute, don’t you understand that being at least marginally funny or fast on your feet will help the person whose job it is to actually be funny to get out of his wheelhouse and create fresher, funnier material for you to laugh at as a precondition for fucking?  Don’t you see the guys getting bored telling you their canned pussy-getting funny story for the ten thousandth time?  Don’t you want to help the poor bastards out?

October 21, 2011 § 1 Comment

I swear to fuck I spend 20 hours a day in front of the internet. I’m a big, fat, unhealthy, addicted fucking slave to this shit. But there’s so much of it, and I can enjoy myself more with porn, people on social networks giving me bracketed e-hugs, and shit like Bad Lip Reading.


This Is Really Just For You, DT

October 20, 2011 § Leave a comment

I want to be still asleep right now, and I fucking would be, except I woke up because I puked on myself, and I stayed awake because some woman (I’m assuming) in my neighborhood is screaming at someone in the high pitched way you scream at a person when they’re not going to listen to what you’re screaming anyway.He probably cheated or spent all their money on drugs. This is a spent all their money on drugs kind of neighborhood, but I’m not ruling out the cheating. I’d have a better idea if I spoke Spanish.

But anyway, I’m awake. I don’t have the energy t0 clean up the vomit, but my computer is right the fuck here. I can set it on my lap and lazy eye it while I type. Not much movement required. Plus, there are some thoughts currently haunting me that I need to get out, and you love it when I talk about my white trash bullshit life.

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Diary 10/16/11: Occupy LA Part 2

October 18, 2011 § 2 Comments

I went down to Occupy Wall Street yesterday.  Occupy LA, rather, in front of City Hall.  I wanted to see what it was about, what people were actually protesting, what they actually wanted.  Also, I figured there would be girls there.

The talk on the internet seems to be that OK, it is understandable that people are pissed off about “the way things are right now,” but the “movement” has no concrete goals and really stands for nothing besides inchoate frustration. And so while it’s growing, while it’s spreading worldwide, while cops are cracking heads in Zuccotti Park and Carbanieri vans are on fire in Rome, until this “movement” gets its shit together and actually asks for something it’ll all be for nothing. « Read the rest of this entry »

Diary 10/15/11: Occupy LA

October 18, 2011 § Leave a comment

Thinking about going down to Occupy LA today.  Not that I give a shit. Or rather, not that I think it is a meaningful movement with any concrete goals. And if they did have concrete goals, they would be impossible to achieve.

Not that I’m against them either—while the “I am the 99 per cent” people complaining about student loans seem dopey to me, far worse is this “I am the 53 per cent (of legitimate income tax payers)” canard; the people holding up signs that say  I bootstrapped my way to the bottom attending a state school while working 30 hours a week at a minimum wage job and never having an instant of freedom, now I will buy a shitty house in Phoenix and have kids who will also have to work 30 hours a week getting yelled at by some undereducated jerkoff because they didn’t adequately mop down the little channel between the beef and chicken grills at Arby’s — congratulations, you’re a fucking idiot.  I wasted my youth grinding myself down to the bone in the most debasing manner possible and now I insist that people with billions of dollars be able to contribute nothing, is what you’re saying.  « Read the rest of this entry »

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