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.
