Diary on a Cranky Morning

23 Jul
image stolen from attentionmax.com

image stolen from attentionmax.com

It’s come to this. No women and no beating off for seven days. Fuck my sponsor, I kept thinking. His awful advice about women. Got me in this hole in the first place. Too attached to this broad and now she’s fucking some guy. I ought to have been shredding internet girls this whole time. Don’t you understand, the ten years younger version of this same chick keeps sending me videos with a hairbrush in her ass. I’m internet famous, god dammit. Enough that a couple people want to fuck me. If junior high could see me now.

Daydreams of her, taking his giant benthic worm of a meatpipe. A feeling like watching your house burn. Same as the urge to go to Royale Junior Liquor Mart, buy a pint of hobo brandy and take it down in three long pulls. So I have to quit this too. What next, food? Air? How do you live without fucking. When you feel the obsession pray to God to remove it. Each time, one locust in a swarm.

Find out who you are without this obsession over women. I’ll tell you: nothing. But then that’s the point, isn’t it. I hate women because I need them. I need them because I hate myself. Until I don’t hate myself I shouldn’t be around women. Seems simple to fix, right? I’m almost 40 years old. I have 17 dollars in the bank. I can’t get a job as a fucking secretary. I call myself a writer and then I sit in the park with pure shit coming out of my fingers; I write a thousand words every two weeks that I think are readable until I post them and read them. I look like Sarah Jessica fucking Parker. I have a small penis. What else. My house is dirty. The only thing that gives me comfort is how stupid other people are.

It’s 80 degrees and sunny and I sit around all day with birds and squirrels and I’m still miserable. I can’t be happy and I hate myself because I can’t be happy. What’s the solution. Go get some pussy. When you’re dealing with a 19 year old aspiring poetess those thousand words don’t look so bad. My shit sucks until you look at every other thing out there.

The girls help. Until they flake. Then what. How dare you flake on me. Don’t you understand that you’re stupid and boring and fat. I was doing you a fucking favor letting you sit in a bar with me for 45 minutes before bringing you home, mounting you on top of a silverfish nest. How dare you. I needed this.

All right. Deep breath. It’s a beautiful day. Eat a piece of fruit and go lift weights. Your problems will be here when you get back.

23 Responses to “Diary on a Cranky Morning”

  1. L. Roy Aiken July 23, 2014 at 2:43 pm #

    At least you’re lifting. You will look better, and best of all, feel better as you go along. Endorphins are the best dope there is. Just me, but I agree, piss on our sponsor’s advice. Go get yourself a little trim. Unless she’s got hep C, it won’t kill your liver. The idea was to quit the sauce and live, not become a miserable incel loser. Like, say, I suspect your sponsor is.

  2. I'd Like A Refund On This Rape-Whistle July 23, 2014 at 6:03 pm #

    Oh, Jesus. This shit. Man, I guaran-fucking-tee you you’re not hated by the people you talk to online or any of the people you spend time with in Cali. You’re probably better liked than you think. And yknow what? Americans just fucking love an unbroken stream of polite and friendly. I am decently well liked by most. Because I’m always pleasant and friendly. Never mind that many of the random people I have to meet are complete fuckbrained faggotards that I would not cross the street to piss on if their hair were on fire.

    Why do you hate yourself? What is it? Name exactly what you hate so much. You hate yourself because you didn’t write the Great American Motherfucking Novel before you were 40? Fuck it. Do you know how many times I’ve had to reinfuckingvent myself or get some entirely new, useless licence or certification or degree just to get the job? Like I wanted a fucking Class A licence? Teach yourself how to do new shit. Teach someone else some shit that you found out about. Get with the people who are interested in shit that’s similar to what interests you. What else are you interested in, other than pussy and writing? The world contains a lot of different things and activities for a fucking REASON, Assnuts, didja ever draw that conclusion?

    Rereading this guy’s post, however, I think It’s bad that no one can know the actual pain of the person with whom we’re supposed to be sympathising. Basically, our job’s easy: type platitudes about shit getting better. DT’s job is exceedingly more difficult; he’s got to live through the shit and write about it like it’s some episodic, ‘real-TV’ styled bloggertainment for a lot of generally useless fucksticks like us.

    So even if my sympathy is an irredeemably hollow lie, right now I’m just striving to understand this man. Just reifying the same thought, again and again, “He is a human being.” In the sense that nothing that is happening to him is provably, 100%, at all times within his sphere of control. At times, society and the powers-that-be can drop on you like a giant fucking Hefty bag of Suck. But he’s trying to not hate it so much.

    Rereading it, I also thought, “This shit is depressing.”

    Know else is? Someone I talked to online, who wanted to troll some website, once asked me to come up with a “really offensive” username for trolling. I replied with:

    Sister Jewhore MacBlumpkinchrist, the Sucking Nun

    Made the troll angry.

    ?

    • delicioustacos July 23, 2014 at 6:08 pm #

      Jewhore MacBlumpkinchrist made me laugh my ass off.

      • Can I Get A Refund On This Rape-Whistle? July 25, 2014 at 11:39 am #

        Oddly, I have vague memories of Chuck Woolery attempting to pronounce this name. I may in fact have got it from a recent “Love Connection” rerun.

  3. jeff July 23, 2014 at 8:34 pm #

    The only thing worse than watching your house burn, is realizing you’re the one that torched it. But then again, its just a chick.

  4. jeff July 23, 2014 at 8:36 pm #

    On the plus side, after seven days your Dick probably doesn’t look like the chicks back from 12 years a slave anymore…

  5. Anony-fucking-mous July 23, 2014 at 9:19 pm #

    Ghandi was like halfway through his seventies before he ever became important enough for us to force middle schoolers to memorize his name for a few weeks. I’m sure it’s completely useless to you… but chin up, you still have time.

  6. whatever July 24, 2014 at 12:59 am #

    My guess is, it’s not about the writing but the fact he couldn’t get a chick back in high school still sticks with him.

    • anonymous July 24, 2014 at 8:49 am #

      That’ll stick with any man.

      • Anonymous July 24, 2014 at 9:28 am #

        Unlike the spelling of Gandhi’s name

  7. Martel July 24, 2014 at 10:40 am #

    DT, I’m in the same boat. Recently gave up the sweet brown porridge and now I find myself bored as shit. Even chasing bottle rats. Pussy is all the same, I’ve had all kinds. Now that I’m 30, and all of my friends are having kids and married, I have this thought that maybe I should of kept some of the good ones and not pumped and dumped. We’ll see what the future unfolds until then please keep writing.

  8. Johnny Caustic July 24, 2014 at 1:11 pm #

    Isn’t it time you moved to Southeast Asia? Older men are respected there, and older, tall, white men are desired by women there. Your ability to write good English is direly needed there. Your $17 will go much further there. And your small penis will be appreciated. Right now, I’m fucking an under-five-foot Filipina woman whose vagina is three inches shorter than my cock. I can’t go in more than halfway before I’m hurting her cervix. I would trade dicks with you just so I could hit her hard doggy-style and get some serious pounding done. Only a temporary trade, of course, but if I spend a few more years in this part of the world I might consider making the swap permanent.

  9. nnn July 26, 2014 at 9:19 am #

    What happened to your video diary? It brought out the Attenborough in you…

    • delicioustacos July 26, 2014 at 9:34 am #

      Still up on youtube for now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UslqwhYu_k

    • delicioustacos July 26, 2014 at 12:40 pm #

      And now it’s back on the blog. I took it off because it was too offensive and I was sick of looking at my fucked up nostrils. But whatever.

    • delicioustacos July 26, 2014 at 12:47 pm #

      And now it’s off the main page again. Because I hate my fucking face and I feel bad about the Israel/ Palestine part.

      • nnn July 26, 2014 at 3:25 pm #

        Well, I guess it also brought out the Netayahu in you.
        Your nostrils did a good job, though. You should have ended the video with an Italian shot of them — it would have been a cinematographic counterpart to the goof-last-sentence denouement employed in well-nigh all your stories.

      • nnn July 26, 2014 at 3:27 pm #

        By the way: your 7-min change-of-mind oscillation on the issue suggests that you’re really not really in a solid state of mind. Sorry to see it.

      • botho July 26, 2014 at 5:13 pm #

        as an enthusiastic reader of your blog, I think you should keep doing a video journal. your humor is epic.

  10. Jim Stark July 26, 2014 at 12:30 pm #

    Puccini wrote Nessun Dorma when he was 65, but I doubt his focus at the time was underage pussy or taking comfort in schools being blown up. Embrace being an “animal” all you like, but bear in mind that animals don’t write novels or symphonies.

  11. cmr August 7, 2014 at 1:46 pm #

    The only thing that still gives ME comfort and relief and a genuine warmth is reading how some post-alcoholic fucker half the world over and from a completely different demographic than me still feels exactly the same things. That third paragraph man.
    So dont stop, you’re saving lives on the daily, one at the lowest, that’s more than most doctors and firefighters can say.

  12. jacksmonkey August 26, 2014 at 7:25 am #

    “What else. My house is dirty. The only thing that gives me comfort is how stupid other people are.” That could be straight out of Notes from Underground.

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