Another one from Justin:
You just won 10 million dollars, how will you spend it?
Honestly I’d do the most boring shit imaginable, which is invest it for a 2 per cent return and live high off the hog with half that, a hundred grand a year. The other half I would give to foster kids. The group home Nikol works with. I would give them books and computers and a pool. The pool would never be used because all the foster kids are black. FUCK YOU FOR CALLING ME RACIST I GIVE HALF MY INCOME TO GOD DAMN FOSTER KIDS.
When I fantasize about having money it’s never about boats and cars and whores. I like my car, which cost me $1200. It’s a 1979 diesel Mercedes just like my last one and if it breaks I will buy another 1979 diesel Mercedes. The fucking thing just looks cool. New cars are stupid. They lack character. Continue reading
Nikol and I invented a sport where we battle with our families’ facebook statuses to see who’s bigger white trash.
When my cousin was told by her pastor that facebook was the devil’s work and left, I thought my career was over. No more would I see a picture of an Orang Utan palming its face accompanied by a quote from Ecclisiastes. But my other cousin who became a grandmother at 28 stepped up:
Welp…the kids and I have been doin’ yard pickup…while as usual the hub has been in his usual place on the couch tipping his best friend and favorite beverage back. I’ve had enough of him, his lies, his tipping back…if he does not make changes in a week, I see him on his own and the kiddos and me making a whole new world for ourselves. Enough is enough, yep I keep it real and that’s where I’m at; any questions
for all you nosey no life of ur own idiots that live on here to gossip… i was set up last night and refused to sell people out so i was arrested. the charges are crap and from my stand point if you have nothing better to do then recommend trash and post it about me then go fuck yourselves and each other !!!!!!! too bad you have nothing better to do or to worry about. but god dont like ugly and neither do i so best of luck to you all. this karma will bite your asses…. i promise
2 people like this.
(REDACTED) You go girl! People need to mind there own fucken business and worry about the shit in their own back yard…. To everyone out there remember the saying “If you aint got anything good to say, dont say anything at all” And another thing (REDACTED) is innocent un-till proven guilty….
I know, I know. I haven’t posted in five days.
I’m not dead. I am simply out of ideas. I have been living a clean and productive life, which means I think and feel nothing.
If you have ideas you would like to see fleshed out in an essay filled with the word “fuck,” or if you want advice from broke, unemployed person incapable of human relationships, or if you have a short story idea or something, please post in the comments or email me from the “Contact” sidebar.
Otherwise normal programming will resume as soon as I relapse into whoring and hard drug abuse.
No they won’t, liar
I’m in the waiting room. Waiting to get my STD test results. The clinic door is open to Echo Park Avenue and someone is blasting Eminem at the stop light. Shut the fuck up, Eminem. Can’t you see I have AIDS?
I have AIDS and herpes and syphilis and HPV and gonorrhea and chlamydia and non gonococcal urethritis (unspecified) and hepatitis C and probably A, B, and D through J as well, and dick cancer and brain damaging spirochetes and crabs and whateverthefuck else, I must have it all. My appointment was for 3:30 but they flat out told me to come late, that’s when the doctor takes lunch. Why did I come at 3:30. I am a fucking idiot. I should have stayed home where there’s youtube videos to distract me and not just this blank document and my gnawing thoughts of all the dick eating infections I have. All the people I’ve killed, girls I fucked whose ovaries will get chewed into dust because of me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, whateverthefuck your name is. The Chinese chick with the purple toenail polish. You didn’t deserve this. Continue reading
I get my STD test results tomorrow. I’m such an old hack at this that I feel no fear. Used to be, I’m sure you know the feeling– you go over and over in your head all the filthy holes you plumbed with your scabrous open cut laden dick, all the men these girls had been with that you’ve now been with too. They give you that demonstration the first week of college– they bring tons of people onstage to show that you’re fucking everyone who the person you’re fucking fucked and whoever those people fucked and etc. Then when you’re finally with a girl, if your dick goes in a millimeter past the condom ring you feel like you tripped and landed on the button that launches the nukes. Years go by and, tentatively at first, you begin rawdogging in the morning when you’ve been grinding each other naked all night. And you are stunned. You learn that what you were doing with condoms isn’t fucking at all, more like a puppet show about fucking. Later you get to the point where you’re rawdogging everyone all the time. The type of girl you pick up in an afterhours party at a freeway underpass. You would rawdog hookers if they’d let you. You even ask them. You just stop giving a shit. Continue reading
I’ve been out in the desert for a few days getting over my head injury, and haven’t written shit. Instead here’s a video of a puppet reading this week’s search terms. I left the kitchen window open while taping and my neighbor’s visiting family walked past.
As always, hat tip to UTB, the originator of search term mayhem.
image stolen from hotnerdgirl.com
Various readers write:
I’m concerned about your head injury. I’m not normally the kind of person who freaks out over this shit, but you really need to see a doctor. You could die or be retarded, etc.
As always, thank you for your sweet concern. But it’s nothing. It hurts like a bitch, but I’m only cognitively impaired insofar as I’m distracted by pain. It’s just a knot on the head. It’s on the right side right on top of my occipital lobe so if there were brain damage it would be evident in my eyesight. Left side. Because of the optic chiasm– the nerves that read from your eyes cross over in an X and run to the back of your head, for some reason. Meaning your left eye transmits to the back right side of your head. See? I remember all that shit from class, that was almost 20 years ago. No brain damaged person can say shit like “optic chiasm.” I bet it’s even called that because it’s shaped like the Greek letter “chi.” See? I remember the Greek alphabet. Continue reading
image stolen from flickr user “jordanbstead”
She’s freaking out because I went down to Tijuana with El Chuco and fucked a bunch of street whores. Get tested, she tells me. Sent me an article where six per cent of them have HIV. Well, I like those odds. Plus, they’re fastidious about condom use. They’re fastidious about every fucking thing; blowjob is extra, getting them to take their god damn top off is extra. Otherwise they just awkwardly jerk you off until you have a half pipe with enough structural strength to get the jimmy on, and crouch on top of you in a full sweater set. They don’t want to look in your eyes. You have to hold their face to get a glimpse of what you assume will be despair, and it turns out they’re trying not to laugh. They’re all nineteen and they all have kids. My baby is six years old and he learn to play the guitar. Good, I tell her, good. Get him started this young and he’ll be great when he’s older. Que? I realize she only has one English sentence memorized to tell Americans. Why make it about your kid then. Continue reading
I have private health insurance now. I have to go get a physical. Because my mom told me to, and plus I have a lump on my neck. I’m sure it’s just a swollen lymph node except I’m also sure it’s an octopus shaped tumor that’s already wrapped around my brain stem and I have seventeen minutes to live. Fine.
Getting the insurance was a god damn nightmare. The only time I’ve been to a doctor in the last five years was to get a cyst lanced on my calf. Blue Shield interrogated me like I was fucking Dzhokhar Tsarnaev about this. Was it a Plaximonious cyst? A Diophibenious cyst? Was any other treatment recommended? I don’t fucking remember dude, they stuck a needle in it and some pus came out. Who was the diagnosing physician? I don’t remember. It was an old black guy, looked kind of like Benson. I never went back to him for a follow up because he put the ball of my foot on his penis and he had an erection. While he was doing this he instructed the nurse to give me my next appointment for free. Continue reading
My house is clean now, and I am profoundly uncomfortable in it. The girl did it. She even poured bleach in the toilet. Now it’s white. If I take a shit, it will leave a brown streak in the perfect white toilet and I will have to reach in there with a brush and scrub it off immediately. Then I will have to clean the brush. I will have to handle shit and caustic chemicals in order to not have the scarlet letter of my shit streaking the bowl, vividly bringing to her mind the image of me squeezing out Brussels sprout logs. The stove is now clean. I will have to furiously wipe it down after every spatter of spaghetti sauce because of this. Because it’s clean, now you have to keep it clean. Constant work and vigilance. How do people live like this.