Pink Elephants WARNING: the following contains expletives and what may be considered to be graphic imagery, reader discretion is advised -- I'm no stranger to spontaneous and erratic social behavior. However, recently I seem to find myself alone in asking, "What the fuck? What the FUCK are you doing?" I know it's a different world now. I know you can spend months not saying a word to anyone without effort. Maybe it's just me, but that seems like insufficient motivation to go out of your way to talk to someone who clearly despises you. I guess disciplining children that try to murder each other on a regular basis has put things in perspective for me. And that perspective is, Grow It's sad that your mommy and daddy weren't there for you and gave you lots and lots of money instead. Truly. Just tragic. But now that your genitalia's aged enough for you to BE a mommy or a daddy, I think it's about time you moved on. Seriously, you aren't Norman Bates, it wasn't that bad, take it down a few notches. And no I don't give a shit about what he said-- OR what she said either! Yes I still feel the same way I did last time we spoke, you remember--when you royally fucked me over? And no I'd rather not have sex with you. Yes I've tried it and know beyond the shadow of a doubt that your underdeveloped personality points to awkward coitus if i'm lucky and stupid; and disease if i'm stupid and stupid. Guess what, I'm not stupid. Just to be absolutely clear: Psycho-bitches of the world, I am no longer interested in feigning interest. I was nuts once too--this is true, but then I went and did this crazy thing and got over myself. I am deeply unsympathetic to your delusional, hypocritical and violent cause. Mr. Alcoholic with a giant undeserved ego and shit poetry-- choke on your vomit and please, NOBODY, nobody's going to fuck you, ever. Ever, ever, ever, ever, ever. Ms. Fat and angry so I eat and bitch about everyone around me whilst throwing myself at everything with a dick--get stuck in a doorway, permanently. (YEAH i'm talking about YOU, don't like it? Stop reading my blog bitch!) Mr. I get stoned and ass-rape people in private because I think that's easier than having a personality--die, alone. Ooooh wait you've got that covered already, cheers! Mr. I never grew past a 12 year old mentality and am incapable of empathy because I think I live in a fucking MMPORG-- you look manorexic and have a noodle penis. It scares me. and last but certainly, Mr. I'm so close to a real-life sociopath it's not even funny and have chosen to reveal my creepy two-faced violent sexual behavior to you -- GO TO JAIL, MOTHERFUCKER! Nasty ass sadistic BITCH--there is NOTHING artsy about that you hear me? Don't you DARE try to kill me because I will bludgeon your ass in a way that you DONT like. people know me, i know people, i can disappear you. hmph. that's an awful thing to say, disappearing people is not funny--everyone has a right to a fair trial, i know... but i REALLY think he may just kill somebody someday. i feel partially responsible, i convinced him sex was a good idea when i was younger. WHAT? how was i supposed to know he'd become crazy predator man. okay, girls of the world if some afro haired egyptian "artist" with chicken legs and a two syllable made up name approaches you-- RUN FOR YOUR GODDAMN LIFE-- and whatever you do REMAIN SOBER.
what happened was, i graduated, got real life responsibilities and fundamentally changed as a person only to realize i was utterly out of my mind in college a few years ago and also-- the people i knew a few years ago, and for some bizarre reason, they all decided to contact me again within the past month, which is just a hilarious cosmic joke and also somewhat terrifying nothing like a self-imposed monastic lifestyle to make all the crazies come a-knockin look besides painting, saving up money for that video camera and my family everything is worth fuckall you can not worm your way back into my life, you have no bargaining chips, i'm not the world's toilet brush anymore step |