The prevalence of stupidity is more widespread than ever before in the history of the human race. The technological advances made by others enable idiots to feel some semblance of intelligence. The stupid have phones, they push buttons and the phone performs feats they could never dream of doing. Like addition for example, or locating a restaurant.
Through the machinations of the internet and the ongoing international cellphone gangbang, the stupid are now connected to every dumbass they can find. They can "like" what other idiots are saying, nodding in befuddled agreement. The shared ignorance gives the conformist morons a sense of togetherness, budding self righteousness and the confidence of a mob. The ability to virtually assemble validates their thoughts and feelings.
The hordes no longer feel so incessantly stupid because they have the company of like minded fools. I can't understand it, but apparently if more than one person believes something dumb it ceases to be so fucking dumb. Thinking like someone else is not an accomplishment.
Again.
Thinking like someone else is not an accomplishment. It should not make you feel better. You should not be so fucking proud to believe what your favorite movie stars believe or what your stupid fuckhole family believes and all of the nonsense your fuckin' cumshittin' friends believe. You will never know anything of originality.
There is no rebellion.
There might be one person.
A person possessed by an idea, a truly singular idea that can change the world.
The moment that idea is shared, it will be around the world and back in a split second and the human race will have torn it apart.
Misery isn't the only one who hates to be lonely. Stupid loves a fucking party, stupid just loves to tear the fucking world apart.
I am so glad that we have spent the last few decades making sure everyone feels special and important, that what they think is valid and their emotions matter. Now everyone can feel significant, now everyone can feel they are right.
I know, I know, you are under the impression that your life is valid, that your stupid life matters. There is no possible way that you are pointless and useless and that your entire life is a god awful waste of fucking time. According to the lifestyle dream that currently permeates our societal values, 99% of us are complete fucking losers, so we spend our lives watching portrayals of other lives.
So, do you really think you are so goddamn special, so important to others. Why should I give a fuck? Why should anybody? Is it the pictures you take and force other people to admire? Is it the pathetic facebook posts you compose? You are the main character in your life story, we all get it and we are all so completely fucking impressed. Everyone in the world is a goddamn star and I am just in the background making noise.
I watch you fucking people. What you do in your entire life is irrelevant, we all just got together and decided to pretend that all this bullshit counts. Allow me to disagree. I could give a shit about your job, your money, your things, your posts and photos or whatever the fuck ever. You can go ahead and count the tangible objects if you want, but they really don't count. You know what counts....
Are you memorable? Are people more impressed by what you own than what you are? Most people cannot outshine inanimate objects. And if you own nothing, well the world will just tear you apart for that as well. It's what you have versus what you don't. How many men are left in the fucking world? Jesus Christ, I have never seen more grown up children fighting over toys in my life. What are you fucking made of, you stupid sack of eventual dust and dirty disintigrating shit?
Are you making the people in your life happy? How much do you laugh?
If you aren't enjoying this life, laughing your way through it and taking the others you care about with you, then what is the fucking point. Stuff. Cram your possessions up your ass, who fucking cares. If possessions are the only thing that please you then you need to take the following advice....
1. Love. Love the hell out of the people you love. You need to really let them fucking know it all the time until you sound like you are being an asshole about it. They need to know that you love them like no one else in the history of the fucking universe ever loved any fucking person. You don't do that by buying them shit. It's in your actions, they remember how you acted out of love, not the fucking flowers you bought because you thought you had to like a stupid cliched fucking turdball. Love.
2. Fuck. That one person you love, you need to fuck them, fuck them like all get out, all crazy and shit. Nothing beats a jolly good fucking, and you can do that almost anywhere. You can fuck like mad donkeys on a pile of ruddy dirt in the woods and it feels better than buying anything you can dream of. I don't know of any car, that when I drive it, I will somehow feel better than I do during a raging cumshot. Oh yeah, pushing that gas pedal feels so much better than cumming. Find it! Find the possession that feels better than an orgasm. Orgasm beats fucking everything.
Hell, there isn't a possession that feels better than giving someone else an orgasm. That is how great they are.
3. Get fucked up. There aren't many great stories that start with, "So, there I was with my Mother at the library, just having some saltines and a glass of tap water...". A great story usually starts with a set up about how fucked up you were. "So, there I was with my Mother at the sewage treatment plant, just having some cocaine and a glass of whiskey...", you want to know where that shit is going. Two words - Cocaine Fueled Turd Fight.
You don't make bad decisions when you are fucked up. You just ignore your conscience and the consequences of your actions. A large portion of your life should be spent that way.
4. Get in a fight with anyone about anything. It doesn't have to be physical, but it helps. Just get your adrenaline going, who cares if you get the shit beat out of you. It happens. It should happen.
Of course, now you can't get into a fight without some bitch ass motherfucker calling the police or pulling a weapon and ruining the whole thing. Slug it out, get it over with, have a goddamn shot and a beer and move the fuck on. Stop ignoring the fact that we are all animals fighting over shit and embrace it and be a fucking animal.
5. Watch a dog drag it's anus across a carpet. Simply because there is no finer moment in existence than witnessing this spectacle and we need to laugh. If you aren't laughing at the world, you are missing hte point. That dog draggin' ass, it doesn't care what anyone thinks, it's "hello carpet, meet my wormy asshole, and I don't care who sees it." You can have the opera and the ballet, dogs draggin' ass is true poetry in motion.
The reactions of people are usually the same. Disgust or laughter. Those are the two most common responses to a dog scratching its butthole on your finely vacuumed and perfumed carpet. If you are disgusted by it, you are a pointless failure and do not deserve the life you have.
We are here to love each other, fuck each other, destroy ourselves and have as many laughs as we can until it's over.
Stop being such self important assholes and go have a good time. Don't take a fucking picture of it.
Remember it.
Hellwagon.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Saturday, June 1, 2013
THIS MEANS YOU ARE GAY FOR JOHN DENVER
It has been stated in the last few months by some popular shitrag publication that Gwyneth Paltrow is the most beautiful woman on earth. I am not saying that she is ugly, not really, but for some reason this self important hag.....
...reminds me of this pan faced squinty-eyed tree-huggin' dirt fucker...
....which happens to be John Fuckin' Denver. I don't really know what to say. Either John Denver looks like a well aged lesbian or Gwyneth Paltrow looks like an adolescent anorexic John Denver.
Fair play though, John Denver was a gimpy goggle eyed horsefaced skinny ass sack of bones as well, so head to toe I think we have a carbon copy and major movie on our hands. Some soulless leather faced Hollywood shitsack needs to get Gwyneth some fuckin' glasses and make this biopic happen.
Coming to a theater near you, Gwyneth Paltrow is John Denver in the blockbuster hit of the summer "Try To Look At Me."
Fuckin' Gwenver.
Hellwagon.
...reminds me of this pan faced squinty-eyed tree-huggin' dirt fucker...
....which happens to be John Fuckin' Denver. I don't really know what to say. Either John Denver looks like a well aged lesbian or Gwyneth Paltrow looks like an adolescent anorexic John Denver.
Fair play though, John Denver was a gimpy goggle eyed horsefaced skinny ass sack of bones as well, so head to toe I think we have a carbon copy and major movie on our hands. Some soulless leather faced Hollywood shitsack needs to get Gwyneth some fuckin' glasses and make this biopic happen.
Coming to a theater near you, Gwyneth Paltrow is John Denver in the blockbuster hit of the summer "Try To Look At Me."
Fuckin' Gwenver.
Hellwagon.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
THE CRUSADE FOR VINTAGE ELEPHANT AFTERBIRTH
I am helpless to resist the relentless commentary that rifles through my brain. I know that everything I want to say is unfit for social gatherings and polite conversations, but when I think the words and start laughing about them to myself people find that rude.
So therein lies the dilemma.
Do I say what I am thinking and certainly offend their delicate crybaby ass queerballs sensibilities, or do I hold the comment in and laugh to myself and let them believe I was going to say something horrible about them regarding their appearance, clothing, breath, girth, posture, sawed off knobby amputee stumps or any number of things that were so obviously wrong with them?
What to do, what to do.
So, when I was in the middle of a recent conversation with some people from somewhere at someplace, I prefer to be non specific for purposes of anonymity because I am half a fag and a sociopath and fuck your butthole and your dogs dirty muffhole and all that. Someone was talking about their kids, how their kids were grown up and married and showing the same tendencies as themselves and how they get such and such from their parents and I say...
"How come people always say, oh, he has his father's eyes and his stubborn ways, or she has her mother's lips or her witty sense of humor. No one ever talks about the bad stuff like he has bleedy anal fissures and hemorrhoids in his hairy swamp of an ass crack just like his latent homosexual father or she has her mother's insatiable hunger for schweaty manballs and the same crazy mood swings and clotty torrential heavy flow periods.
Just once, I would like someone to say "You get your dick from your Mom."
With my luck I figured there would be someone in the room who had a sawed off hermaphrodite mother with an ol' hermy ass midget dick and that person would say "I wish I got my dick from my shortstack momma, her hermy ass freako dick is small, but not nearly as tiny as my dad's little ol' pimpled gerkin. He's all foreskin and no neck. It looks like his balls have a cape on."
No one responded right away to what I said, too busy twiddling banjo tunes on their sawed off mommas stringy little dickneck veins, and honestly what did I expect them to say. "I have frosted tips on my ball hair just like my dad, but the hair parts a little to the left like my mom's vadge rug." Some wiseacre just said after a moment 'well....moving on' and got a light chuckle. I bet he has his mom's dick.
...in his mouth and ass. Yeah, take all that mom dick you quippy motherfucker. He probably has salt and pepper balls.
Being around regular people for too long can make me think that I have a problem because I say absurd and inappropriate things. Everything sounds crazy when you spend your days with people who suppress every fucked up impulse that their brain has ever constructed so they can fit in with the rest of the boring world.
Why in the hell would I want to fit in with people in this world. People do the dumbest boring shit for no reason. People are the dumbest shit, shitfuckin' dumbass bastards with too much shit in they ass. Animals don't have to explain the stupid shit they do, the fact that people try to explain themselves just makes everything worse.
I don't need to hear the reasons why you are a fuck up. I have eyes. You say your clothes are vintage when you bought them yesterday. You like to look old when you're twenty. Say no more, in fact, say nothing. I get it.
You are the living equivalent of a garbage bag overflowing with elephant afterbirth.
You are a pretentious shit stain pretending not to be a shit stain.
You are not a pile of shit. You are a statement about a pile of shit.
No one on earth is cool anymore. They think they are cool in an ironic way. Like a stupid dick who won't admit they are a stupid dick even though they fuckin' know they look and act just like a goddamn stupid dick.
These are the same people who like to watch the news on their phones so they can marvel at the horrible shit that other people do while they do pretend cool shit like tend the spice garden they are growing out of their toilet tank. Look at me, I am my own fertilizer. They watch the rest of the world so they will have something to talk about the next day. I hate that. I could never truly give a shit what is going on the world or care to discuss current events.
Social injustice has never moved my conscience. You can't make me care about war or environmental causes, animal rights and human rights and income taxes and the geopolitical landscape or anything else you can summon up to try and make me feel guilt or shame or indignation.
I do not give a fuck about your cause.
I am indifferent to your plight.
Why do we all have to care about all of this shit? Caring and crying about it doesn't change what happens, it just makes everyone sound like a bunch of whiny motherfuckers with nothing better to do than point fingers at the rest of humanity. Raising awareness they call it.
I am now aware that you are a self important dick. Good job, you rusty slop bucket of a donkey's dickcream.
All of these baseless crusaders are regular shitheads like the rest of us, they are just trying to divert our attention and delude themselves into thinking they are making a difference in the world.
They want to you feel like you are on the wrong side of something, that you should be involved in the struggle against the famine facing lesbian pot bellied pigs with gestational diabetes in the Mekong Delta or some shit.
In the meantime, they don't fix their own boring lives, help their own asshole families and clean up their shitty neighborhoods. They can wear the shit out of some big ass nerd glasses though.
If some people are inherently violent and morally reprehensible shitsacks then that is what they are. If they make their living by exploiting people for profit then guess the fuck what, they are going to do it no matter what noise you make about it for as long as they can. If they die or if you kill them, someone else will take their place because they can make a buck doing it or they have bloodlust or they are just fucking sick or whatever.
You cannot change people, you cannot change the world. When you can rewire strings of DNA, let me fucking know, until then go floss your teeth with a tampon string. It has always been this way because that is the way we are. Fucked up is our true nature, it's just that most of us are adept at hiding it behind stupidity. People are the cause of every misery and always will be. We are all that is good and horrible about existence.
I stand on the shoulders of assholes and bastards.
I am an asshole and a bastard. It's what I am.
Hey, all of you helpful people of the world. Stop being so fucking delusional and give us all a break from your endless boring crusade for change. You want to fix something for me, want to make the world a better place? Do it one person at a time. I know a man in his late forties who thinks he is a witch. A fucking witch. Not a wizard or a magician who pulls endless hankies from his bunghole. He wears t-shirts with dragons on them all the time. I imagine he even has an amulet crammed up his magical anus.
How does that happen? How does this vintage bullshit happen? How does anything really happen for that matter. When the fad passes, will people say vintage is getting old. Someone fix that. Fucking chop the balls off it.
Hellwagon.
So therein lies the dilemma.
Do I say what I am thinking and certainly offend their delicate crybaby ass queerballs sensibilities, or do I hold the comment in and laugh to myself and let them believe I was going to say something horrible about them regarding their appearance, clothing, breath, girth, posture, sawed off knobby amputee stumps or any number of things that were so obviously wrong with them?
What to do, what to do.
So, when I was in the middle of a recent conversation with some people from somewhere at someplace, I prefer to be non specific for purposes of anonymity because I am half a fag and a sociopath and fuck your butthole and your dogs dirty muffhole and all that. Someone was talking about their kids, how their kids were grown up and married and showing the same tendencies as themselves and how they get such and such from their parents and I say...
"How come people always say, oh, he has his father's eyes and his stubborn ways, or she has her mother's lips or her witty sense of humor. No one ever talks about the bad stuff like he has bleedy anal fissures and hemorrhoids in his hairy swamp of an ass crack just like his latent homosexual father or she has her mother's insatiable hunger for schweaty manballs and the same crazy mood swings and clotty torrential heavy flow periods.
Just once, I would like someone to say "You get your dick from your Mom."
With my luck I figured there would be someone in the room who had a sawed off hermaphrodite mother with an ol' hermy ass midget dick and that person would say "I wish I got my dick from my shortstack momma, her hermy ass freako dick is small, but not nearly as tiny as my dad's little ol' pimpled gerkin. He's all foreskin and no neck. It looks like his balls have a cape on."
No one responded right away to what I said, too busy twiddling banjo tunes on their sawed off mommas stringy little dickneck veins, and honestly what did I expect them to say. "I have frosted tips on my ball hair just like my dad, but the hair parts a little to the left like my mom's vadge rug." Some wiseacre just said after a moment 'well....moving on' and got a light chuckle. I bet he has his mom's dick.
...in his mouth and ass. Yeah, take all that mom dick you quippy motherfucker. He probably has salt and pepper balls.
Being around regular people for too long can make me think that I have a problem because I say absurd and inappropriate things. Everything sounds crazy when you spend your days with people who suppress every fucked up impulse that their brain has ever constructed so they can fit in with the rest of the boring world.
Why in the hell would I want to fit in with people in this world. People do the dumbest boring shit for no reason. People are the dumbest shit, shitfuckin' dumbass bastards with too much shit in they ass. Animals don't have to explain the stupid shit they do, the fact that people try to explain themselves just makes everything worse.
I don't need to hear the reasons why you are a fuck up. I have eyes. You say your clothes are vintage when you bought them yesterday. You like to look old when you're twenty. Say no more, in fact, say nothing. I get it.
You are the living equivalent of a garbage bag overflowing with elephant afterbirth.
You are a pretentious shit stain pretending not to be a shit stain.
You are not a pile of shit. You are a statement about a pile of shit.
No one on earth is cool anymore. They think they are cool in an ironic way. Like a stupid dick who won't admit they are a stupid dick even though they fuckin' know they look and act just like a goddamn stupid dick.
These are the same people who like to watch the news on their phones so they can marvel at the horrible shit that other people do while they do pretend cool shit like tend the spice garden they are growing out of their toilet tank. Look at me, I am my own fertilizer. They watch the rest of the world so they will have something to talk about the next day. I hate that. I could never truly give a shit what is going on the world or care to discuss current events.
Social injustice has never moved my conscience. You can't make me care about war or environmental causes, animal rights and human rights and income taxes and the geopolitical landscape or anything else you can summon up to try and make me feel guilt or shame or indignation.
I do not give a fuck about your cause.
I am indifferent to your plight.
Why do we all have to care about all of this shit? Caring and crying about it doesn't change what happens, it just makes everyone sound like a bunch of whiny motherfuckers with nothing better to do than point fingers at the rest of humanity. Raising awareness they call it.
I am now aware that you are a self important dick. Good job, you rusty slop bucket of a donkey's dickcream.
All of these baseless crusaders are regular shitheads like the rest of us, they are just trying to divert our attention and delude themselves into thinking they are making a difference in the world.
They want to you feel like you are on the wrong side of something, that you should be involved in the struggle against the famine facing lesbian pot bellied pigs with gestational diabetes in the Mekong Delta or some shit.
In the meantime, they don't fix their own boring lives, help their own asshole families and clean up their shitty neighborhoods. They can wear the shit out of some big ass nerd glasses though.
If some people are inherently violent and morally reprehensible shitsacks then that is what they are. If they make their living by exploiting people for profit then guess the fuck what, they are going to do it no matter what noise you make about it for as long as they can. If they die or if you kill them, someone else will take their place because they can make a buck doing it or they have bloodlust or they are just fucking sick or whatever.
You cannot change people, you cannot change the world. When you can rewire strings of DNA, let me fucking know, until then go floss your teeth with a tampon string. It has always been this way because that is the way we are. Fucked up is our true nature, it's just that most of us are adept at hiding it behind stupidity. People are the cause of every misery and always will be. We are all that is good and horrible about existence.
I stand on the shoulders of assholes and bastards.
I am an asshole and a bastard. It's what I am.
Hey, all of you helpful people of the world. Stop being so fucking delusional and give us all a break from your endless boring crusade for change. You want to fix something for me, want to make the world a better place? Do it one person at a time. I know a man in his late forties who thinks he is a witch. A fucking witch. Not a wizard or a magician who pulls endless hankies from his bunghole. He wears t-shirts with dragons on them all the time. I imagine he even has an amulet crammed up his magical anus.
How does that happen? How does this vintage bullshit happen? How does anything really happen for that matter. When the fad passes, will people say vintage is getting old. Someone fix that. Fucking chop the balls off it.
Hellwagon.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
THE FOGHORN OF THE DAMNED BLOWS YOUR MOM
You know what commercials never say about drugs.
Drugs are awesome.
Some drugs make you feel completely fucking awesome and different and silly and great, that's why some people fucking do them, because some drugs are really great. Feeling normal, well most of the time going around and normal braining it through your life is a boring pile of dingy gray decade old cat crap. I am dingy grey cat crappin' normal most of the time. I am also dingy grey cat crappin' sober most of the time. Almost all of the time in fact.
I can see how I wouldn't be categorized as normal by most people, mainly because most people are stupid unimaginative dickholes that are completely dead inside and these boring pissants spend their every waking moment tickling their aunties bedazzled ballbag. I can guarantee you that your aunt bedazzles her floppy old fuzz covered titties. Take a look. Her chest is a goddamn 1980's jean jacket with dirty nipples. Not to mention the fact that her muff hair hangs down like fringe. It's a whole ensemble.
This is just me being nostagic about drugs, simply because people who have never done drugs talk about the goddamn weather and think all drugs are all bad. They talk about gas prices, home prices, the prices of anything except drugs really.
Holy fuck, let's talk about how everything is getting more expensive and depress the living hell out of each other. I don't have money for anything. Well neither do I. I know, let's complain like miserable twats for eternity. You know who doesn't complain or even care about that silly shit, someone on awesome drugs, or someone who has awesome drugs they are totally going to do as soon as they get home. I totally love people on awesome drugs. At least they are mildly amusing.
Once, when I was on drugs, I had a lengthy conversation with a friend about the possibility of constructing a giant wrecking ball out of angel food cake and then holding onto said wrecking ball as it careened into a giant rickety building mounted atop thousands of spinning shopping cart wheels.
Would the impact drive your body inside the cake? Only science could answer that, or a lot of fucking cake. We then walked for two miles stirring a bowl of pancake batter, so when we got to a friends house we could make pancakes right fucking now. On the way back home, we found a loveseat on the street. We sat there for hours, then we carried it home. It stayed in my living room for two years and I did a lot of drugs sitting on it.
You know what we didn't talk about. Bills. Money. Responsibility. Pain. Misery. How dirty that loveseat was, how someone probably jizzed on it, five times, yesterday.
I hardly ever do drugs anymore. Lame. I have real life lame responsibilities, a steady monotonous boring job, stupid fucking mortgage, among other soul killing bullshit that everyone has to deal with. Bills, utilities, home maintenance, blah blah blah, reading that should make you want drugs. Writing that made me fall in love with drugs all over again.
But for me, having to contend with being an upstanding adult all the time pretty much kills any good opportunities to do drugs. It doesn't kill the desire to do them. Just the ability. I cannot feed my kids from jail. I am not averse to an occassional painkiller washed down with some Jack Daniels. I just can't be occassional every day. Once a month though, it should be an occassion.
However, for drugs to be really be truly stupidly awesome there have to be rules. I am not saying they don't ruin lives. Drugs ruin shitloads of peoples stupid pathetic lives for several reasons, among them are the amount or kind of drugs you take or the person taking the drugs. You just might be doing the wrong drugs kemosabe, try other drugs. You have fucking options.
And if you are a complete fuck up without drugs, don't add drugs to how fucking dumb you already are. Doing drugs will not even your stupid ass out, it will just make you exponentially more fucking dumb. Here are some of my other made up rules for drugs.
If you need a needle, you are doing the wrong drugs. I don't mean insulin you stupid fuck. I mean real drugs, not save your life drugs, ruin your life drugs holmes. You shouldn't have to stab your body to do your drugs. You shouldn't have to worry about getting a disease from the apparatus you use to dispense your drug of choice.
If you get HIV from drug use and not dick use, you are totally using the wrong drugs and frankly the wrong dick. Move the fuck on, you wrong dick. I don't want to hear any whining about how hard it is to quit, just find a different drug and a different dick and shut up. Lots of drugs and dicks out there, don't be so stubborn and narrow minded.
And let me be clear. Dick is a drug. Pussy is a drug. If you don't think so, just you try to quit them, you fucking dick quittin' bitch. Here's some science for you, you fucking nerds, guys can't even quit their own dick, so they ain't even thinking of quitting snatch. Unless they quit pussy for dick.
And ladies, I think it is perfectly acceptable to break up with a guy by simply telling him, "I'm sorry, but you just have the wrong dick for me." I mean, you are so fucking picky about everything else, your shoes, clothes, makeup, hairstyle, fingernails, toenails, everything, so you should be extra picky about some dicky.
So. So fucking what guy, don't get all mad at me because she said your dick is wrong. Your Mom doesn't sit around all day getting super mad about her tiny ass dick. You just have to believe your dick is the right dick for somebody. It's just small. Nah-nah-nah-ne-nah-nah, you and your Mom have little ass dicks. Her balls are huge though. Massive. She asked me the other day if her big balls made her tits look small. Does her pussy smell like her dick or is it the other way around? Your Mom's dick is the other way around.
Yeah, this is getting us nowhere and stopped making sense years ago.
If you have to steal to pay for your drug, you are doing the wrong drugs. Don't bother the rest of us because you can't afford your drugs, find something in your price range. Living beyond your means and being lifestyle greedy is killing this country, so start huffing gas or rubber cement in a brown paper bag or some shit, you dirtball. I love that word. Dirtball. Anyway, being an asshole about your addiction is selfish and makes you the goddamn worst, you fucking baby. Your drug use is about you, don't make it about me and steal from me.
You can pay for your drugs with money from any job. Why are you such a stupid asshole? Hell, some people do drugs to put up with work, so you can damn well work to buy drugs. Do not be a burden on society for the sake of your drugs, take your drugs and contribute to society. You can even find a job that works with your drug of choice. Plenty of jobs out there for potheads and pill poppers and coke fiends.
Meth, heroin and crack users, sorry to say, not many jobs for you, which brings me to another point...
Your drug use cannot be your whole life. That only works with weed. Weed is not hurting anyone and it's totally acceptable to revolve your life around it. It makes almost everything awesome and anyone who tells you otherwise is the wrong dick.
Man, I miss me some weed. Sticky motherfucking dank ass weed. The kind you can smell without opening the bag, but you do it anyway, stick your face in there and inhale and smile. You always smile. You cannot smell a bag a weed and be mad about it. Fucking weed dude.
Anyway, any drug other than weed constantly used will fuck up your entire life and everyones lives around you. There are very few recreational meth addicts. Meth is a life choice, not a 'I'm just blowing off steam for the weekend' kinda thing. Same goes for Heroin and Crack.
I don't think we should take these drugs away from people. I don't want to be that guy, we all have things in our heads we are trying to get away from, some of us just need something with more oomph to knock that brain right out of there. However, I think we should sterilize these particular addicts and ship them off to their own country. I, for one, cannot wait to vacation in Methlehem, or what we formerly called Nebraska.
Late at night you can hear the wind whistling through the gaps in their teeth. When the breeze gently blows over their collective passed out mouth and snatch and ass holes it sounds like one million people blowing over the tops of one million empty beer bottles. It is the sound of the foghorn of the damned. Lord, please bless the hardy gap toothed folk of Methlehem,
I could come up with a bunch of other rules about drugs. I know I could. I could tell the story of the denizens of Methlehem, but I don't give a shit anymore. Yeah, I could write the "O Little Town of Methlehem' song. The title is good enough. That is another benefit of drugs, you stop giving a shit about things, stupid things, important things, fucking everything. Life shouldn't take all of this fucking thought and effort man. Do this, do that, pay this, fix that, finger this, finger that, it's fucking enough already.
I thought this life shit was supposed to be fun and amazing most of the time. Working is for squares and most people are dicks, I know that much.
But drugs are not the answer I guess, because that leads to jail, which leads to ass rape. Not enough drugs in the world to make that acceptable.
Hellwagon.
Drugs are awesome.
Some drugs make you feel completely fucking awesome and different and silly and great, that's why some people fucking do them, because some drugs are really great. Feeling normal, well most of the time going around and normal braining it through your life is a boring pile of dingy gray decade old cat crap. I am dingy grey cat crappin' normal most of the time. I am also dingy grey cat crappin' sober most of the time. Almost all of the time in fact.
I can see how I wouldn't be categorized as normal by most people, mainly because most people are stupid unimaginative dickholes that are completely dead inside and these boring pissants spend their every waking moment tickling their aunties bedazzled ballbag. I can guarantee you that your aunt bedazzles her floppy old fuzz covered titties. Take a look. Her chest is a goddamn 1980's jean jacket with dirty nipples. Not to mention the fact that her muff hair hangs down like fringe. It's a whole ensemble.
This is just me being nostagic about drugs, simply because people who have never done drugs talk about the goddamn weather and think all drugs are all bad. They talk about gas prices, home prices, the prices of anything except drugs really.
Holy fuck, let's talk about how everything is getting more expensive and depress the living hell out of each other. I don't have money for anything. Well neither do I. I know, let's complain like miserable twats for eternity. You know who doesn't complain or even care about that silly shit, someone on awesome drugs, or someone who has awesome drugs they are totally going to do as soon as they get home. I totally love people on awesome drugs. At least they are mildly amusing.
Once, when I was on drugs, I had a lengthy conversation with a friend about the possibility of constructing a giant wrecking ball out of angel food cake and then holding onto said wrecking ball as it careened into a giant rickety building mounted atop thousands of spinning shopping cart wheels.
Would the impact drive your body inside the cake? Only science could answer that, or a lot of fucking cake. We then walked for two miles stirring a bowl of pancake batter, so when we got to a friends house we could make pancakes right fucking now. On the way back home, we found a loveseat on the street. We sat there for hours, then we carried it home. It stayed in my living room for two years and I did a lot of drugs sitting on it.
You know what we didn't talk about. Bills. Money. Responsibility. Pain. Misery. How dirty that loveseat was, how someone probably jizzed on it, five times, yesterday.
I hardly ever do drugs anymore. Lame. I have real life lame responsibilities, a steady monotonous boring job, stupid fucking mortgage, among other soul killing bullshit that everyone has to deal with. Bills, utilities, home maintenance, blah blah blah, reading that should make you want drugs. Writing that made me fall in love with drugs all over again.
But for me, having to contend with being an upstanding adult all the time pretty much kills any good opportunities to do drugs. It doesn't kill the desire to do them. Just the ability. I cannot feed my kids from jail. I am not averse to an occassional painkiller washed down with some Jack Daniels. I just can't be occassional every day. Once a month though, it should be an occassion.
However, for drugs to be really be truly stupidly awesome there have to be rules. I am not saying they don't ruin lives. Drugs ruin shitloads of peoples stupid pathetic lives for several reasons, among them are the amount or kind of drugs you take or the person taking the drugs. You just might be doing the wrong drugs kemosabe, try other drugs. You have fucking options.
And if you are a complete fuck up without drugs, don't add drugs to how fucking dumb you already are. Doing drugs will not even your stupid ass out, it will just make you exponentially more fucking dumb. Here are some of my other made up rules for drugs.
If you need a needle, you are doing the wrong drugs. I don't mean insulin you stupid fuck. I mean real drugs, not save your life drugs, ruin your life drugs holmes. You shouldn't have to stab your body to do your drugs. You shouldn't have to worry about getting a disease from the apparatus you use to dispense your drug of choice.
If you get HIV from drug use and not dick use, you are totally using the wrong drugs and frankly the wrong dick. Move the fuck on, you wrong dick. I don't want to hear any whining about how hard it is to quit, just find a different drug and a different dick and shut up. Lots of drugs and dicks out there, don't be so stubborn and narrow minded.
And let me be clear. Dick is a drug. Pussy is a drug. If you don't think so, just you try to quit them, you fucking dick quittin' bitch. Here's some science for you, you fucking nerds, guys can't even quit their own dick, so they ain't even thinking of quitting snatch. Unless they quit pussy for dick.
And ladies, I think it is perfectly acceptable to break up with a guy by simply telling him, "I'm sorry, but you just have the wrong dick for me." I mean, you are so fucking picky about everything else, your shoes, clothes, makeup, hairstyle, fingernails, toenails, everything, so you should be extra picky about some dicky.
So. So fucking what guy, don't get all mad at me because she said your dick is wrong. Your Mom doesn't sit around all day getting super mad about her tiny ass dick. You just have to believe your dick is the right dick for somebody. It's just small. Nah-nah-nah-ne-nah-nah, you and your Mom have little ass dicks. Her balls are huge though. Massive. She asked me the other day if her big balls made her tits look small. Does her pussy smell like her dick or is it the other way around? Your Mom's dick is the other way around.
Yeah, this is getting us nowhere and stopped making sense years ago.
If you have to steal to pay for your drug, you are doing the wrong drugs. Don't bother the rest of us because you can't afford your drugs, find something in your price range. Living beyond your means and being lifestyle greedy is killing this country, so start huffing gas or rubber cement in a brown paper bag or some shit, you dirtball. I love that word. Dirtball. Anyway, being an asshole about your addiction is selfish and makes you the goddamn worst, you fucking baby. Your drug use is about you, don't make it about me and steal from me.
You can pay for your drugs with money from any job. Why are you such a stupid asshole? Hell, some people do drugs to put up with work, so you can damn well work to buy drugs. Do not be a burden on society for the sake of your drugs, take your drugs and contribute to society. You can even find a job that works with your drug of choice. Plenty of jobs out there for potheads and pill poppers and coke fiends.
Meth, heroin and crack users, sorry to say, not many jobs for you, which brings me to another point...
Your drug use cannot be your whole life. That only works with weed. Weed is not hurting anyone and it's totally acceptable to revolve your life around it. It makes almost everything awesome and anyone who tells you otherwise is the wrong dick.
Man, I miss me some weed. Sticky motherfucking dank ass weed. The kind you can smell without opening the bag, but you do it anyway, stick your face in there and inhale and smile. You always smile. You cannot smell a bag a weed and be mad about it. Fucking weed dude.
Anyway, any drug other than weed constantly used will fuck up your entire life and everyones lives around you. There are very few recreational meth addicts. Meth is a life choice, not a 'I'm just blowing off steam for the weekend' kinda thing. Same goes for Heroin and Crack.
I don't think we should take these drugs away from people. I don't want to be that guy, we all have things in our heads we are trying to get away from, some of us just need something with more oomph to knock that brain right out of there. However, I think we should sterilize these particular addicts and ship them off to their own country. I, for one, cannot wait to vacation in Methlehem, or what we formerly called Nebraska.
Late at night you can hear the wind whistling through the gaps in their teeth. When the breeze gently blows over their collective passed out mouth and snatch and ass holes it sounds like one million people blowing over the tops of one million empty beer bottles. It is the sound of the foghorn of the damned. Lord, please bless the hardy gap toothed folk of Methlehem,
I could come up with a bunch of other rules about drugs. I know I could. I could tell the story of the denizens of Methlehem, but I don't give a shit anymore. Yeah, I could write the "O Little Town of Methlehem' song. The title is good enough. That is another benefit of drugs, you stop giving a shit about things, stupid things, important things, fucking everything. Life shouldn't take all of this fucking thought and effort man. Do this, do that, pay this, fix that, finger this, finger that, it's fucking enough already.
I thought this life shit was supposed to be fun and amazing most of the time. Working is for squares and most people are dicks, I know that much.
But drugs are not the answer I guess, because that leads to jail, which leads to ass rape. Not enough drugs in the world to make that acceptable.
Hellwagon.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
I PROCLAIM THAT YOUR ASSHOLE IS NOT A SAUCEPAN
So I guess it's been awhile. So guess what. So fuck yourself. I give a shit.
So guess what.
So what are you waiting for, go on and fuck yourself already and listen to this shit and I mean exactly shit. I was in the men's room the other day having a well earned piss, nothing special. You may ask yourself, how does one earn a piss? You drink liquid, wait awhile and fucking piss stupid and then you go and fuck yourself again. I should really go and fuck myself, it sounds terrific.
Now, you cannot help what you overhear, you have no control over the sounds around you, noises just happen and you are left with the aftermath of dealing with them, forever. Not that what I overheard was incredibly scarring or disturbing. It just was. It just fucking was dammit and now I have to know this slophole imbecile exists
When you wipe your ass it should be one motion. One and done. No folding, re-using, no back and forthing as you whistle Camptown Ladies, nothing like that. You're in and you're out, like a water slide only the slide is covered with shit smears you have clean on your way down. Worst water park ever.
You should have only one emotion. Stoicism. The job has to be done and you're the man to do it. Act with swift purpose, perhaps you could imagine you are extracting a team of highly trained malodorous special operatives from extremely hostile territory.
The A-Team. Indeed. The A-Team van is the only van not associated with perverts and rapists. It's just badass. Hencefort, all vans shall be of A-Team quality. I proclaim it to be so.
One thing you don't do is hang out at ass wiping like a fucking dirty hippie. Goddamn dirty hippie asswipers.
"Oh, hey, what's up Asshole, sorry for bumping into you, just didn't see you there..."
"Oh, hey Paper, duuuuuude, how's life been treating you?"
"Like shit bro, hahahahaha, I was just about to roll one up, you got any papers? Oh, wait, I am papers."
"Dude, chillax Paper, you wanna just hang and do some righteous bong hits and watch the tube."
"Oh yeah, sure Asshole, just let take off my hiking socks and Birkenstocks. I think I stepped in shit. Oh wait, nevermind, just you dude."
"Hey, Dude, Paperman, you got any eye drops man, my eyes are just totally bloodshot."
"I think you mean eye, and by bloodshot I think you mean anal fissures. Visine does not work on hemorrhoids, bro."
Anyway, I am taking my piss and it sounds like someone is scrubbing a pan that just won't get clean. The swirly rough motion of a brillo pad. I hear back and forthy sounds. Around and around sounds. What I don't hear is new paper being pulled from the roll. I hear wiping and rubbing and then it stops, perhaps to look at the paper, and then wiping again.
An audible groan, as if to say "shit is still there, you mean I have to do this again, aww damn it."
Hey, you, you shitty ass crybaby, we have all been there. You tough it out and soldier on and clean the shit off of yourself. I don't know, but maybe part of your problem is that you are just rubbing and smearing the shit around like you are painting Tom Sawyer's fence. If you rub paint around, more area gets painted. If you rub shit around, more area gets shitty.
You are not doing the dishes, your asshole is not a saucepan. Your ass crack is not a fence.
If you haven't figured this out by now you need to get your shit together.
Which reminds me of another shitty story. When I was a younger man, a chick attempted to stick her finger into my anus. True story. She was unsuccessful in her quest for my asshole and that is her tragic burden to bear. I am sure it has been keeping her up at night for lo these twenty years, but no dice sister, not this guy. I don't know if anyone truly wins when you are trying to jam a finger in some ass, but in this horrifying scenario, I believe I can claim victory. It was at that low point in my life, however, that I realized that America had lost its ability to feel shame.
And you should really ask about something like that. You don't even have to be polite, just a three second warning, enough time to clench at least. Even a light whisper of "hey, I'm gonna check your oil" or "gonna poke a hole in your donut", something for chrissake.
Slip me a note, "Would you like a finger in your ass?" and include boxes that I could check yes or no. Set it up like a blind taste test, except instead of soda there is a table with two holes. Sit on one to have a finger inserted, sit on the other for no finger. See which one is more popular, nine out of ten dentists agree that a finger in your ass is extremely unpleasant. Now rinse.
The hole with no finger could be whatever you want, a burst of baby powder, fart amplifier, feather duster, photocopier even, so I can have a picture of my ass without a finger in it. Any other choice but something in my ass.
You should also not expect me to return any favors, with my finger or anything else. I have nothing against gay. Way to be gay, who gives a shit. Big deal. When you make a big deal out of something, that's when it gets annoying, like am I really supposed to give a shit and pay attention. The world has changed enough that you can find acceptance somewhere. You don't have to force the whole world to witness your "struggle".
This goes for everyone. Stop trying to make everyone tolerant and understanding of you. Fuck you, tolerate and understand that, bunch of whiny self absorbed motherfuckers. Like you are so fucking special. Get behind someone elses cause for once, stop pointing the finger at yourself.
Someone is always going to hate you, someone is always going to hate me. Tough fucking shit, stop crying. So, every group in the world can go on and shove your goddamn flags and parades and cries for peace and harmony and all that nonsense. It's not happening.
And really gay people, parades are gay even without gay people. Fuck a parade. Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by myself, asshole and mouth are the only options for gay, so what are you going to do. Victim of circumstance. However, if a woman asked me for butt action I said no thanks dude. I love my wang too much to drive it into turd town. You might as well say, "Hey buddy, come over here, you wanna rub your dick in this pile of shit?"
"No thanks, Mr. Mayor."
And if you are going to surprise me like that, you should at least spit on your finger or something, give yourself a chance. Going for the goal dry cost her the medal. She went for the gold on my third pump. I pulled out and dismounted.
"Well, we're done."
"My old boyfriend used to love that."
"Well, your old boyfriend is gay. He probably has a giant cock shoved in there now."
And that was the last we saw of ol' stinkfinger.
Which brings me to my larger point, ass fingering that is exactly how I feel about welfare. What, are you serious, social commentary springing from an ass fingering? Fuckin' damn right. People are sticking their finger in my ass without even bothering to ask me.
There is no shame in welfare anymore. When I was a kid, we were on food stamps for a while, and they didn't give you a goddamn fancy card that you could be sneaky about. Food stamps were rainbow colors of fucking silly money that anyone at that time could spot instantly and think you were a bum. Anyone who had to use them felt the shame of that shit. We all did, but we needed it at the time. As soon as we could get off that shit, we got off, because you are supposed to pull your own fucking weight in this world and not carry monopoly money.
I am not supposed to carry a bunch of fucking bums through life.
It is 5:20 in the morning at my local convenience store, I was stopping on my way to work when I witnessed four hillbilly tweakers arguing over what energy drink they could purchase with their Access welfare card. Red Bull was the consensus. Fucking Welfare Red Bull. How on earth can someone justify that to me, that four bums were buying energy drinks with money they basically stole from my pocket.
Someone has got their entire fist in my ass.
I have a solution. Welfare monies should be dispensed in giant novelty check form. For a lot of people who get welfare, it's like winning the lottery anyway, why not give them the giant check like the lottery does. A few months of everyone watching you carry that giant check around might make getting a job look enticing.
Of course, with the way this ass fingering world is now, most would carry it around with pride, as if there were nothing nobler than getting over on the rest of us.
Hellwagon.
So guess what.
So what are you waiting for, go on and fuck yourself already and listen to this shit and I mean exactly shit. I was in the men's room the other day having a well earned piss, nothing special. You may ask yourself, how does one earn a piss? You drink liquid, wait awhile and fucking piss stupid and then you go and fuck yourself again. I should really go and fuck myself, it sounds terrific.
Now, you cannot help what you overhear, you have no control over the sounds around you, noises just happen and you are left with the aftermath of dealing with them, forever. Not that what I overheard was incredibly scarring or disturbing. It just was. It just fucking was dammit and now I have to know this slophole imbecile exists
When you wipe your ass it should be one motion. One and done. No folding, re-using, no back and forthing as you whistle Camptown Ladies, nothing like that. You're in and you're out, like a water slide only the slide is covered with shit smears you have clean on your way down. Worst water park ever.
You should have only one emotion. Stoicism. The job has to be done and you're the man to do it. Act with swift purpose, perhaps you could imagine you are extracting a team of highly trained malodorous special operatives from extremely hostile territory.
The A-Team. Indeed. The A-Team van is the only van not associated with perverts and rapists. It's just badass. Hencefort, all vans shall be of A-Team quality. I proclaim it to be so.
One thing you don't do is hang out at ass wiping like a fucking dirty hippie. Goddamn dirty hippie asswipers.
"Oh, hey, what's up Asshole, sorry for bumping into you, just didn't see you there..."
"Oh, hey Paper, duuuuuude, how's life been treating you?"
"Like shit bro, hahahahaha, I was just about to roll one up, you got any papers? Oh, wait, I am papers."
"Dude, chillax Paper, you wanna just hang and do some righteous bong hits and watch the tube."
"Oh yeah, sure Asshole, just let take off my hiking socks and Birkenstocks. I think I stepped in shit. Oh wait, nevermind, just you dude."
"Hey, Dude, Paperman, you got any eye drops man, my eyes are just totally bloodshot."
"I think you mean eye, and by bloodshot I think you mean anal fissures. Visine does not work on hemorrhoids, bro."
Anyway, I am taking my piss and it sounds like someone is scrubbing a pan that just won't get clean. The swirly rough motion of a brillo pad. I hear back and forthy sounds. Around and around sounds. What I don't hear is new paper being pulled from the roll. I hear wiping and rubbing and then it stops, perhaps to look at the paper, and then wiping again.
An audible groan, as if to say "shit is still there, you mean I have to do this again, aww damn it."
Hey, you, you shitty ass crybaby, we have all been there. You tough it out and soldier on and clean the shit off of yourself. I don't know, but maybe part of your problem is that you are just rubbing and smearing the shit around like you are painting Tom Sawyer's fence. If you rub paint around, more area gets painted. If you rub shit around, more area gets shitty.
You are not doing the dishes, your asshole is not a saucepan. Your ass crack is not a fence.
If you haven't figured this out by now you need to get your shit together.
Which reminds me of another shitty story. When I was a younger man, a chick attempted to stick her finger into my anus. True story. She was unsuccessful in her quest for my asshole and that is her tragic burden to bear. I am sure it has been keeping her up at night for lo these twenty years, but no dice sister, not this guy. I don't know if anyone truly wins when you are trying to jam a finger in some ass, but in this horrifying scenario, I believe I can claim victory. It was at that low point in my life, however, that I realized that America had lost its ability to feel shame.
And you should really ask about something like that. You don't even have to be polite, just a three second warning, enough time to clench at least. Even a light whisper of "hey, I'm gonna check your oil" or "gonna poke a hole in your donut", something for chrissake.
Slip me a note, "Would you like a finger in your ass?" and include boxes that I could check yes or no. Set it up like a blind taste test, except instead of soda there is a table with two holes. Sit on one to have a finger inserted, sit on the other for no finger. See which one is more popular, nine out of ten dentists agree that a finger in your ass is extremely unpleasant. Now rinse.
The hole with no finger could be whatever you want, a burst of baby powder, fart amplifier, feather duster, photocopier even, so I can have a picture of my ass without a finger in it. Any other choice but something in my ass.
You should also not expect me to return any favors, with my finger or anything else. I have nothing against gay. Way to be gay, who gives a shit. Big deal. When you make a big deal out of something, that's when it gets annoying, like am I really supposed to give a shit and pay attention. The world has changed enough that you can find acceptance somewhere. You don't have to force the whole world to witness your "struggle".
This goes for everyone. Stop trying to make everyone tolerant and understanding of you. Fuck you, tolerate and understand that, bunch of whiny self absorbed motherfuckers. Like you are so fucking special. Get behind someone elses cause for once, stop pointing the finger at yourself.
Someone is always going to hate you, someone is always going to hate me. Tough fucking shit, stop crying. So, every group in the world can go on and shove your goddamn flags and parades and cries for peace and harmony and all that nonsense. It's not happening.
And really gay people, parades are gay even without gay people. Fuck a parade. Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by myself, asshole and mouth are the only options for gay, so what are you going to do. Victim of circumstance. However, if a woman asked me for butt action I said no thanks dude. I love my wang too much to drive it into turd town. You might as well say, "Hey buddy, come over here, you wanna rub your dick in this pile of shit?"
"No thanks, Mr. Mayor."
And if you are going to surprise me like that, you should at least spit on your finger or something, give yourself a chance. Going for the goal dry cost her the medal. She went for the gold on my third pump. I pulled out and dismounted.
"Well, we're done."
"My old boyfriend used to love that."
"Well, your old boyfriend is gay. He probably has a giant cock shoved in there now."
And that was the last we saw of ol' stinkfinger.
Which brings me to my larger point, ass fingering that is exactly how I feel about welfare. What, are you serious, social commentary springing from an ass fingering? Fuckin' damn right. People are sticking their finger in my ass without even bothering to ask me.
There is no shame in welfare anymore. When I was a kid, we were on food stamps for a while, and they didn't give you a goddamn fancy card that you could be sneaky about. Food stamps were rainbow colors of fucking silly money that anyone at that time could spot instantly and think you were a bum. Anyone who had to use them felt the shame of that shit. We all did, but we needed it at the time. As soon as we could get off that shit, we got off, because you are supposed to pull your own fucking weight in this world and not carry monopoly money.
I am not supposed to carry a bunch of fucking bums through life.
It is 5:20 in the morning at my local convenience store, I was stopping on my way to work when I witnessed four hillbilly tweakers arguing over what energy drink they could purchase with their Access welfare card. Red Bull was the consensus. Fucking Welfare Red Bull. How on earth can someone justify that to me, that four bums were buying energy drinks with money they basically stole from my pocket.
Someone has got their entire fist in my ass.
I have a solution. Welfare monies should be dispensed in giant novelty check form. For a lot of people who get welfare, it's like winning the lottery anyway, why not give them the giant check like the lottery does. A few months of everyone watching you carry that giant check around might make getting a job look enticing.
Of course, with the way this ass fingering world is now, most would carry it around with pride, as if there were nothing nobler than getting over on the rest of us.
Hellwagon.
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