Its faggots.
I need a vacation, to the center of this geometrical illustration.
I need a vacation, to the center of this geometrical illustration.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Today we celebrate our Independence Day
Dweef had a very strange Fourth of July.
After a long, hard day of horseshit at work, I decided it was prudent to do something i have not been inclined to do in quite a while. And that would be getting wasted wif some good ol' homies Psynut and Mack 10.
However, as soon as I showed up to the house everyone was getting in the car to go to "a party"
So i say fuck it, why the hell not. I jump in the V Dub and prepare for the worst/best.
We show up to this crib in Stuckagain Heights. Real nice place, most definitely a rich daddies house. The night is going as per usual with Guccimayne beats beerpong and hussies.
Needless to say, so far I'm down.
I get pretty drunk and Dweef decides he wants to come hang out.
All because of this semi-attractive girl wif doubledees.
We'll call her mamajohns, you know because of all the pizza involved.
So Dweef and Mamajohn hit it off pretty well with drunken conversations about existentialism and shitty music.
We smoke a cigarette and end up being alone.
Of course Dweef makes a move, being the pigdog that he can be.
Mamajohn seems down and wants to disappear with Dweef into one of the many rooms that have beds and locks and Daddy Warbucks' place.
They go upstairs.
The start off real well with the typical making out dry hump bologna.
Mamajohn is on the rag and Dweef wasn't really hoping for anything anyway.
Dome insues.
Dweef can both hear and see Mack10 and Psynut lol'ing at him through the mirror from the other room. At this point he doesn't give a fuck.
Mamajohn stops and says she doesn't feel good.
Dweef is agitated.
Mamajohn continues with the dome...
UNTIL!
Just then, quick as a flash and without warning Mamajohn spews chucks of red matter all up and down Dweefs erection.
Needless to say Dweef is not pleased.
Right as that happens Mack 10 sees his dick all covered in puke and assumes Dweef is gettin dat Ragtime lovin'.
But little did he know the bullshit that had just happened.
Dweef dips the fuck out and poor defenseless me is left with puke everywhere and a very embarrassed naked girl in a bed I'd never been in before.
I'd never gotten dressed so quickly in my life before.
The moral of the story is: Don't hook up with random chicks when you are drunk as fuck with S&M.
I had been doing a damn good job not being a little sinwhore until that fateful Fourth of July.
Perhaps it was a sign.
A smelly, chunky, horribly embarrassing sign.
After a long, hard day of horseshit at work, I decided it was prudent to do something i have not been inclined to do in quite a while. And that would be getting wasted wif some good ol' homies Psynut and Mack 10.
However, as soon as I showed up to the house everyone was getting in the car to go to "a party"
So i say fuck it, why the hell not. I jump in the V Dub and prepare for the worst/best.
We show up to this crib in Stuckagain Heights. Real nice place, most definitely a rich daddies house. The night is going as per usual with Guccimayne beats beerpong and hussies.
Needless to say, so far I'm down.
I get pretty drunk and Dweef decides he wants to come hang out.
All because of this semi-attractive girl wif doubledees.
We'll call her mamajohns, you know because of all the pizza involved.
So Dweef and Mamajohn hit it off pretty well with drunken conversations about existentialism and shitty music.
We smoke a cigarette and end up being alone.
Of course Dweef makes a move, being the pigdog that he can be.
Mamajohn seems down and wants to disappear with Dweef into one of the many rooms that have beds and locks and Daddy Warbucks' place.
They go upstairs.
The start off real well with the typical making out dry hump bologna.
Mamajohn is on the rag and Dweef wasn't really hoping for anything anyway.
Dome insues.
Dweef can both hear and see Mack10 and Psynut lol'ing at him through the mirror from the other room. At this point he doesn't give a fuck.
Mamajohn stops and says she doesn't feel good.
Dweef is agitated.
Mamajohn continues with the dome...
UNTIL!
Just then, quick as a flash and without warning Mamajohn spews chucks of red matter all up and down Dweefs erection.
Needless to say Dweef is not pleased.
Right as that happens Mack 10 sees his dick all covered in puke and assumes Dweef is gettin dat Ragtime lovin'.
But little did he know the bullshit that had just happened.
Dweef dips the fuck out and poor defenseless me is left with puke everywhere and a very embarrassed naked girl in a bed I'd never been in before.
I'd never gotten dressed so quickly in my life before.
The moral of the story is: Don't hook up with random chicks when you are drunk as fuck with S&M.
I had been doing a damn good job not being a little sinwhore until that fateful Fourth of July.
Perhaps it was a sign.
A smelly, chunky, horribly embarrassing sign.
Friday, June 18, 2010
A post about a million dollars
Fuck being poor. Here at child support we like to get paid. and when i say "we" i mean "me"
This post is now about lonliness. =( -I MISS YOU TIMMY AND TOAD.
This post is now re-about money.
Everybody on earth knows that if you want money, you need a job. That is of course unless you were born into a buttload of deniros. Shits soooo cash hardeeharhar fags. I really feel as though being broke is part of why some of us are all friends. We are dependant upon eachother to make it through the week with our paycheck to paycheck life style. How do you break said habit in order to produce stacks? Cut the haters off at the neck. The ball and chains. The Naers. The vultures in costumes, and the wolves in sheeps clothing. All of them after the same thing. YO CHEDDA. They can smell dat aroma from a hundred miles away and they come foaming at the mouth for all the "help" and "hey buddies" they can get.
Everybody on earth knows that if you want money, you need a job. That is of course unless you were born into a buttload of deniros. Shits soooo cash hardeeharhar fags. I really feel as though being broke is part of why some of us are all friends. We are dependant upon eachother to make it through the week with our paycheck to paycheck life style. How do you break said habit in order to produce stacks? Cut the haters off at the neck. The ball and chains. The Naers. The vultures in costumes, and the wolves in sheeps clothing. All of them after the same thing. YO CHEDDA. They can smell dat aroma from a hundred miles away and they come foaming at the mouth for all the "help" and "hey buddies" they can get.
I am guilty of it. You are guilty of it.
This post is now about independence.
For the love of god haters, get your own guap.
Me and the boys, we runnin things. And we aint goin stop till we get a milli for da tank.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Extensive research in the field of dramatization has led me to believe that my life is one big fucking sitcom. I ride the ups and downs like a god damn roller coaster and I've gotten pretty damn good at it. But im tired of letting that be how i get around. I wanna look at this like a giant set of stairs spiraling so high into the sky i can't see the top. I've sold myself short for other people time and time again. I've vouched for people that i no longer believe in. My head, it pounds like a relentless techno beat that you make up when youre tripping. None of this means anything. Nobody reads this.
Im going to disappear.
You're going to miss me.
Im not scared of any of you anymore. Im not worried about disappointing anyone but myself anymore. It was always about impressing someone, or getting them off of my back.. but now i just wanna show myself what everyone should already know, and that is in fact that I am the best at what i do. What that is, I dont know. What that means, well you figure it out.
You have made me sick. So sick of you, and youre ugly side. I've seen it. It hangs from the front part of youre stomach. And you never think about it but its there. I would've done so much for you. Don't ever offer anyone the world if you're still afraid of it.
You have disappointed me, I thought you were a bigger person then the crap youre pulling, I love you but damn man..let it go.
You need to stop playing victim, and peek outside your bubble once in a fucking while. It might surprise you how pretty everything is.
You need to stop using people who love you.
You need to leave me alone, Im doing everything I can for you and you still want more. Im only one person and my heart has been divided too many times to give it all to you.
I need. To stop being so self-righteous. To learn when to quit. And stop selling myself short for
weak hearted, meanspirited people who only care about them and theirs.
There you go blogspot, my testimony to all of you FAGS before I leave you all behind in a whirlwind of success, sandy beaches, and the pursuit of newer happier memories.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Aye Marty!
I want to go to the Berklee School of Music in Boston.
Music Performance
Film Scoring
Electronic Production Labs
AND CHOWDA?
Sounds like Mecca.
Music Performance
Film Scoring
Electronic Production Labs
AND CHOWDA?
Sounds like Mecca.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Deprivation
Sleep has not come natural to me for some time now.
I fear I may never again run in tandem with the rest of gods creatures.
My landlords are becoming increasingly less patient with me on account i have not paid my rent in a minute.
So the time has come for me to use what I have, to make the best of where I'm at.
Papabear needs a new pair of boots.
Jazz, and more of it please.
"If peein' your pants is cool, call me Miles Davis!"
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