Wednesday, December 21, 2011
New Haircut
Ok, just got a sexy new haircut. It's gonna be the haircut of the protagonist for my graphic novel Metal Heart. I might put a facial scar on him too. For flavor. It's set into the far flung future, I'm not putting that one in the blog; but I'll let you know about it if it gets published. Also, Russian girls are awesome. Show me your titties, and I will publish them in this blog. I am obviously beyond the point of giving a fuck.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Xmash
Ok, so over the weekend I came up with a concept, I call it xmash. Basically it involves breaking and entering, and that is the sticking point of it. I need to kind of hash it out a bit more. So the point is that we occupy christmas, and we break into the actual corrupt politician or banker's house of our choice, and we wreck the fuck out of his house. We do it fast, and we get out, and we take all his nice stuff that isn't bolted down.
It's just a concept right now; but I would love to hear more suggestions.
It's just a concept right now; but I would love to hear more suggestions.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Mother Russia
Please do not misunderstand me, I do not have any allegiance anymore, much less to America, which has thoroughly betrayed me. I think between us, we could make very great achievements.
Just How Bad TSA Fails
I have always said that this blog is me at my nakednest and most sincerest, so I will not lie about any of this.
At some point (and let it be known right here, and right now, that I will never forgive nor forget how this whole clusterfuck came to be, because George Washington, TJ, Alexander Hamilton, and especially Ben Franks would be so pissed off about it that there are no words...) I was exiled. I am here now, an outsider looking on, and witnessing the sinking of the US.
This pains me. A lot. Within 60 years the US decided "we rule, so fuck everybody," the difference is this: the trade surplus with china.
The US now manufacures next to nothing. Ask any child over 12 years old how to load or fire a gun. Any kind of gun. His choice of gun They don't fucking know. Or they know the exact wrong way to do it. Ask a north korean six year old how to take down, clean, reassemble, load, aim and shoot an AK or M-16 variant, also ask him who created mickey mouse. According to him it was Kim Jong Il.
And don't tell me about PSP games. That's the fucking reason that people do not understand the idea of supressing fire.
It's a sorry sight to behold.
I wish I only did not have to get my daughter out of hippytown, come hell or high water, and believe me you, when the time comes, there will only be two spots on that boat. and they will be for me and her.
All you fuckups can drown for all I care.
Either you carry your weight, and then some, or I use you for chum.
I know how to do it, and I know what I'm gonna wear.
I mean that, too.
Oh, Merry fucking Xmash you sorryass sons of bitchers.
At some point (and let it be known right here, and right now, that I will never forgive nor forget how this whole clusterfuck came to be, because George Washington, TJ, Alexander Hamilton, and especially Ben Franks would be so pissed off about it that there are no words...) I was exiled. I am here now, an outsider looking on, and witnessing the sinking of the US.
This pains me. A lot. Within 60 years the US decided "we rule, so fuck everybody," the difference is this: the trade surplus with china.
The US now manufacures next to nothing. Ask any child over 12 years old how to load or fire a gun. Any kind of gun. His choice of gun They don't fucking know. Or they know the exact wrong way to do it. Ask a north korean six year old how to take down, clean, reassemble, load, aim and shoot an AK or M-16 variant, also ask him who created mickey mouse. According to him it was Kim Jong Il.
And don't tell me about PSP games. That's the fucking reason that people do not understand the idea of supressing fire.
It's a sorry sight to behold.
I wish I only did not have to get my daughter out of hippytown, come hell or high water, and believe me you, when the time comes, there will only be two spots on that boat. and they will be for me and her.
All you fuckups can drown for all I care.
Either you carry your weight, and then some, or I use you for chum.
I know how to do it, and I know what I'm gonna wear.
I mean that, too.
Oh, Merry fucking Xmash you sorryass sons of bitchers.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Kandy
Ok, so I'm kinda bored so I decided to write a little about this girl I used to date.
The first time I met Kandy she gave me a very nice blowjob, she swallowed my cum and she was totally into me.
The second time I met Kandy she told me to fuck off. I don't know why.
The third time I met Kandy she told me that the first time I met her was the very first time that she had ever blowjobbed a guy. She still didn't explain to me why she told me to fuck off the previous time, and I didn't ask. She also gave me a so-so blowjob that time.
The fourth time I met Kandy, I asked to fuck her bareback. She said it was fine, as long as I didn't cum a lot. I don't remember if I was trying to make a joke, or if I told her that I don't cum a lot because I was miffed that she didn't remember just how much I ejaculate (for reference, Peter North has nothing on me); but I did fuck her and come inside of her. I think she kind of liked it, too.
The first time I met Kandy she gave me a very nice blowjob, she swallowed my cum and she was totally into me.
The second time I met Kandy she told me to fuck off. I don't know why.
The third time I met Kandy she told me that the first time I met her was the very first time that she had ever blowjobbed a guy. She still didn't explain to me why she told me to fuck off the previous time, and I didn't ask. She also gave me a so-so blowjob that time.
The fourth time I met Kandy, I asked to fuck her bareback. She said it was fine, as long as I didn't cum a lot. I don't remember if I was trying to make a joke, or if I told her that I don't cum a lot because I was miffed that she didn't remember just how much I ejaculate (for reference, Peter North has nothing on me); but I did fuck her and come inside of her. I think she kind of liked it, too.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Things Happen
Some people love to fuck. I have known them, carnally, in the biblical sense. I enjoyed that immensely in every instance. I will do it again, every chance I get, until the end of time, or until I die, whichever comes first.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
The Black Sheep
Who is the black sheep of the family?
Some people say that they are the black sheep. In fact, I think pretty much everyone feels like the black sheep at some time or another. I believe that perhaps my family believes I am both the black sheep and god's avenging angel of death at the same time. I am neither. I am just a mad scientist hotrodding the fuck out of metal and trying to create badassednessecity by my chimmichinchin, and on a shoestring budget.
I know that sheep are a thing. I could care less what color their fur is. I own a ton of wool sweaters and socks. None of them are white, not even the ones that used to be, because white always turns grey. I own a shitload of grey t-shirts and wifebeaters.
Nevertheless, one of my brothers, the most conformist of us, has chosen to portray himself as a black sheep. Except that nobody believes him. Well, guess what? Stop being an attention whore.
You tell me that you are cutting; but I don't see any scars. And you tell me that you are fucking all kinds of hot chicks; but every time you invite me to a party it's fucking highschool shit AND a sausage fest. For a guy in his twenties, that's fucking pathetic. For a guy in his thirties to try to keep that shit up, is way beyond pathetic. There are no words to describe it.
So if you are trying to be an attention whore/cutter/emo/satanist/suicidal prick/untalented bullshit artist, I say this: You can kill yourself all you want. I don't give a fuck. Promptly remove yourself from the gene pool, the rest of us will be better off without you.
I used to give a shit about people like you; but then I caught an arrow to the knee. I don't give a shit about you and your weak crew. I got problems of my own, bitch. Show yourself, I'll cure you with some bitchslap therapy.
Some people say that they are the black sheep. In fact, I think pretty much everyone feels like the black sheep at some time or another. I believe that perhaps my family believes I am both the black sheep and god's avenging angel of death at the same time. I am neither. I am just a mad scientist hotrodding the fuck out of metal and trying to create badassednessecity by my chimmichinchin, and on a shoestring budget.
I know that sheep are a thing. I could care less what color their fur is. I own a ton of wool sweaters and socks. None of them are white, not even the ones that used to be, because white always turns grey. I own a shitload of grey t-shirts and wifebeaters.
Nevertheless, one of my brothers, the most conformist of us, has chosen to portray himself as a black sheep. Except that nobody believes him. Well, guess what? Stop being an attention whore.
You tell me that you are cutting; but I don't see any scars. And you tell me that you are fucking all kinds of hot chicks; but every time you invite me to a party it's fucking highschool shit AND a sausage fest. For a guy in his twenties, that's fucking pathetic. For a guy in his thirties to try to keep that shit up, is way beyond pathetic. There are no words to describe it.
So if you are trying to be an attention whore/cutter/emo/satanist/suicidal prick/untalented bullshit artist, I say this: You can kill yourself all you want. I don't give a fuck. Promptly remove yourself from the gene pool, the rest of us will be better off without you.
I used to give a shit about people like you; but then I caught an arrow to the knee. I don't give a shit about you and your weak crew. I got problems of my own, bitch. Show yourself, I'll cure you with some bitchslap therapy.
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