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Mind Ya Bizness

23 Jul

Mothafucka. I’m going back home tomorrow, for roughly three weeks. Yay school! Meanwhile, he’s ruining people’s lives:

“Dude, if there’s anything I can say to you that will positively impact your life more than this, I haven’t found it yet– Mind your own fucking business. I was just smoking a cigarette outside of a bookstore, pretending to be sad about life and looking awesome, and some housewife (a “mature amateur” as Internet Porn might call her) steps up and says “You know you can’t smoke here, right?” I stared her down as I perfectly flicked the cigarette into a trashcan from 14 feet away. “First off, wrong, I didn’t know that. If you can’t smoke around books and children, then where the fuck can you smoke anymore? Secondly, did you not read my shirt? It says FUCK RULES in a very clear typeface and bold, easy to read colors. And thirdly, since we’re critiquing each other lives, you need to drop at least 7 pounds and tuck your underwear in– it’s peeking out the back of your mom jeans.” Now we’ve got a lady with her feelings hurt and her World crushed, and as she nearly crumpled to the ground, I was the only one there to console her. So I did. And we had sex in the stairwell of the parking garage. And guess who asked for a cigarette afterwards? That’s right. Old Mom Jeans. Off I sent her, back home to live a lie with her fat husband and her dumbass kids, her marriage now ruined and her life in shambles, and all because she couldn’t mind her own fucking business and let me look pensive and melancholy in front of a bookstore. Oh and by the way– the trashcan caught on fire. You’re welcome, America.” 

Seems a bit extreme to me, but sure. 

Pensive and melancholy like a mothafucka!!!

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Confidence Boost Part Two

7 Jul

His response, which not surprisingly is very very weird:

“You don’t make any sense! “Why do girls just want to be friends with me??? Waaaaaaaaaah!” Stop crying like a woman and start fucking them. Be confident for God’s sake and hit on every pretty girl you see. Sure, some will slap you, some will laugh, some will whisper to each other then walk away, but then again my friend… some will say yes. One in forty-three I’d say. Here’s what you’ve got going in your favor. You’re not half bad looking. There’s something about you- it’s not like you’re a model or anything, but there’s something there. If I were a gay dude I would make eyes at you from across the gay bar until you came over and then I’d be like “Can I buy you a drink?” and you’d be like “I guess” and then I’d get you a double cuz I’d be a sneaky gay guy, and we’d dance a bit and kinda start kissing on the dance floor and then I’d be like “Wanna sweat out this alcohol at my place?” and you’d laugh and be like “We just met!” but then fifteen minutes later we’d be in chocolate city together. I’m not gay, I’m just saying that you’re not half bad looking. I mean, if you wanted you could read a book like “The Game” or take some confidence course at the Y with the other rape victims to make yourself feel better or maybe learn some tricks. But that would be a waste of time and money. Instead just start listening to me a little more carefully, grab your balls in your hand and say FUCK IT. I’M GONNA GET LAID.”

Did that whole gay bar thing go on a little too long for everyone else too? Uncomfortable. I was waiting for a classic “no homo” but it never came. Curious…

On Books and Covers

3 Jun

Still haven’t spoken to him about summer school. He sent this picture:

Nice van.

And he wrote this:

“Um… Hired! More proof that judging books by their covers is not just the right way to live, it’s the ONLY way to live. Sure, this guy does carpentry work. The kind where he staples your hands to your kitchen counter and rapes you in the armoire. Books. Covers. Judge ’em. Besides, when was the last time you saw a cool person reading a book anyway? Three years ago in Brooklyn? Books are for fags.”

I’ve never been to Brooklyn.  

Updating The Fistfight List

29 May

For those of you playing at home…

“I was really drunk last night (surprise!) And White Men Can’t Jump was on TV. Well guess what, America? That shit’s going on the Fistfight List. Here is an updated version for your records:

Things I Will Punch You in the Face For if You Don’t Like them

Scripted TV: THE WIRE

Reality TV: JERSEY SHORE

Music: OLD RAP

Movies: WHITE MEN CAN’T JUMP

Book Learning: KURT VONNEGUT

I think that’s about it for now. As far as art goes I know what I like but I’m not sure who makes it. Go to a BBQ today and piss your pants in front of everyone. Ladies find that shit hilarious and also arousing because it shows how confident you are about your sexuality.”

My Dad is BBQing right now. Should I do it? It feels right. 

Blondes Have More Fun

12 Apr

I mentioned a girl… a blonde… and something to the effect of her being “too hot” or something similar, and he was not pleased. Not sir, not pleased at all. The following was his rebuttal of sorts:

“Get your shit together, friend. Everyone’s afraid of blondes like they’re fucking dangerous or something. Get over it. You just need to understand the psyche behind them. People say that blondes are dumb, and a fortune has been made making jokes on that middling, unintelligent note. But the truth is that blondes aren’t necessarily dumb, they’ve just been so overvalued by our society that they’ve never been forced to develop socially. Because they’re lauded and praised just for arriving at people’s homes and public events from an early age, and because they intimidate most non-blondes into near-silence, they never feel the necessity to learn social skills or, well, facts and anecdotes. It’s not so much that they’re dumb, it’s more that they’ve never had to use their brains. But a secret about blondes that the world has been afraid to admit for some time is this: Most blondes suck in bed. This obviously comes from their societal value as well, and like their brains, most of them never develop very good dance and/or sex moves. Their best dance move is called “The Hands Up Scream” and their go-to sex move is called the “Don’t You Feel Lucky to Hear Me Moan?” but they’re about as overvalued as the housing market in 2006. Now, all that being said– they look great on your arm, so go get one!”

Sometimes I purposely goad stuff out of him, and sometimes it comes naturally. As he says, you’re welcome, either way.

If you looked like this, you wouldn't open books either.

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