image stolen from kimt.com
A friend asks:
Have you made the move to the Alt-Right yet?
I know you lean Left on social stuff. As do I. But as far as racial shit.
I’d love to be racist. But I don’t have the moral authority. I steal and sell drugs and threaten people. I fuck a million women and never use condoms. I collect unemployment and get my insurance through the government. My relatives watch Kirk Cameron Jesus movies, so I’m not gonna talk shit on Tyler Perry Presents: Some Shit You Stumbled on on Basic Cable That Made You Think Maybe “The Bell Curve” Is Right. None of this except Kirk has been true for two years but I’m one pint of hobo brandy away from it. One pop away from walking to skid row in my gay shorts, smoking black tar off a Philly cheese steak wrapper from a trash can with a homeless bridge dweller whose race is irrelevant. I have more in common with a black junkie than a white office worker. At least black people talk about pussy. Continue reading
Now I’m outside trying to write and there’s literally a god damn mariachi band playing. Loud power tools from the fucking construction on the neighbor’s house. What’s next. Someone needs to come blow a vuvuzela in my ear. The high school gong corps needs to bash 1600 gongs inside my asshole. A chorus of roosters needs to crow for the dawn while a herd of elephants is burned alive. Someone needs to make me wear a jet engine for a hat and blast 15,000 Mexican car alarms inside my skull. Continue reading
image stolen from deviantart user swept-wing-racer
Can’t stop looking at twitter. Reading about the UVA rape. Everyone is constantly being raped, no one is ever raped– weird twitter and the manosphere fighting over it… god, the sweet drama. There’s a picture of the girl now. Too late. No beating off to a rape scene you know is fake. Continue reading
Clearing out the vault. Here’s some shit you might have read this year, if I could have cracked it: Continue reading
I was in Boston for my father’s death and I fired up Tinder. Girls there actually match you. Message you. Can you imagine. Enough to make you think: could I live in the cold. Sidewalks packed with surly oafs in puffy Burlington Coat Factory jackets muttering about the fucking Patriots. Their fat Irish faces. I’m stuck in LA though. My mother moved here. Too much of a twist of the knife to move back to the frozen hell I talked her into leaving. Cold ground so hard you fall and hit it like a car door slamming. Can’t leave my mother. Instead she’ll get to watch her only child die alone. Her genes extinguished. Continue reading
“High sex drive” is a woman’s term. Every man is like me. I just can’t lie about it. Every man fucks as much as he can. Jerks off as much as he can. Every male teacher fucks his students whenever possible. If not, he’s ugly. His dick like a chewed up hunk of bologna you barely rescued from the dog, from beating off about sweet tight wet underage pussy 5,000 times a day. Every man on a farm has fucked a mule at least 10,000 times.
Every renowned man in history fucked hot young teens whenever possible. Gandhi slept with 14 year olds. Said it was to test virtue by not touching them. He was touching them. Martin Luther King shredded more ass than a mule tannery. We’re told: these were great men with a flaw. Lechery was a side effect of their fame.
No. Their accomplishments were a side effect of chasing teen pussy. To get where he could rawdog underage girls, Gandhi had to become the Mahatma.
The only exception: Hitler. Hitler got 0 ass.
I talk about underage pussy and birds. She did a great job cutting it together: