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Cumulative Effects

14 May

They happen in so many ways over time… and yet another reminder to kill myself:

“The reason getting old sucks is because everyone you hang out with, even your best friends, have too much shit on their minds. You can be with the two coolest people in the World, but if they’re over 27, they’re both gonna have a bunch of real shit to think about and be slightly more boring because of it. Mortgages, bad investments, worse relationships, old chubby pregnant chicks, whether all the concussions we got from fighting are fucking up our memory capacity, and mortgages. When you hang out with your boys right now, the only thing on your mind is what the pussy you’ll be eating later tastes like. Mango? Regret? Bagel Bites? Who knows, and who cares, because those aren’t real problems. I spent most of Saturday night trying to figure out if declaring bankruptcy got me out of my student loans over ten gin and tonics and eleven lines of coke. The answer is no. To all of it. One more reason why you need to eat mescaline and fall out of your frat house window next year. After you go abroad, of course. Nothing better than going out on top.”

I typed “Bagel Bites Funny” and here we are. Truly that.

Attach Yourself

2 May

And reap the rewards:

“Remembered a great rule for taking chicks home just now. Get to the point where it’s reasonable to ask them to go home with you (you’ve been flirting/touching, everyone else is leaving, her eyes are rolled back in her head, etc) and then ask her very straightforwardly. When she blushes and starts to say no, tell her with the utmost seriousness that she should feel okay doing this because there’s “no strings attached” in her doing so. It’s not that you want to have sex, you just don’t want the night to end. Like Scarface said in his epic love song “Goin’ Down” when told by his female companion that she wouldn’t have sex with him, “No sweat. Not even on my mind. We just met.” Make her feel safe with a guy who nearly took offense to the idea of sex when she brought it up. You’re not a whore for goodness sake! But then when you get home…

MORE STRINGS THAN A FUCKING ORCHESTRA. 

Just make sure to wear a rubber so you don’t get one of those nasty STD’s– Shitty Toddler Diapers.” 

Ready to play.

 

And here’s the Scarface song in question:

Read Between The Lines

7 Mar

As a complete liar, he’s a master of it…

“Watched that Peyton Manning/Jim Irsay press conference today and something struck me. First of all, is it just me or is that fat idiot ALWAYS HAMMERED? Supposedly he’s sober, so I guess when you’re sober your face is always beet red and you slur your words. Anyway, they both said it “wasn’t about the money.” Lemme tell you something. If someone EVER says it’s “not about the money,” it’s ONLY ABOUT THE MONEY. In fact, pretty much every time someone says anything’s “not” about something, it is.

“It’s not you, it’s me.” It’s you.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” She’s pissed as FUCK.

“Those are not my drugs, officer.” Those are totally my drugs and I love them can I please keep them?

“I know I’m not the father.” I’m freaking out because me and that idiot NEVER used a condom and my sperm is made of magical dreams and rocket fueled delicious candy.

So just remember that the next time someone tries to BS you. It is, what it is.” 

This country is weird.

Love Letters

26 Apr

With last night’s “cameras” email and now this scanned letter he sent to like ten people, I fear he’s off the deep end like never before…

“Gay people– Wanted to get your thoughts on this letter before I give it to the new girl at my office. Too much? Too little? Any feedback would be appreciated.” 

Pretty sure our grandpa never said that.

Baby Talk

9 Apr

Another classic warning email:

“Just got a call from a buddy who knocked up his girlfriend. He was calling from a really high bridge. The lesson to be learned here is twofold– 1. Don’t ever have a girlfriend. 2. Wear condoms for fuck’s sake! If God hates you, he’ll give you a baby instead of an STD. If he really hates you, he’ll put that baby inside some Him-fearing Christian girl who fucked up and made her one mistake with you. If this happens to you, call me and we’ll figure something out. And yes, that “something” will involve shovels and the changing of a license plate or two, as well as some frightening memories that really bond us… in terrible, nightmarish secrecy that eventually rips us apart at the seams. What I’m saying is, I’m here for you.”

Love how an email advising me to “wear condoms” turns into a detailed explanation of killing and burying someone.

Thanks for the help, baby, but it's too late. You're born already.

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