B-day (Fuck the world)

This is where I'm at right now: Honestly, I'm mad. It is B-day. Not my motherfuckin birthday, no no no. It's biopsy day.

At this point, I'm mad. Boobs used to be fun. Now boobs are deadly. Like they killin motherfuckers.

Where I'm at right now, is that, I'm tired. I'm tired of boobs killin people, I'm tired of being sad, I'm real tired of motherfuckers who said they'd be there and then motherfuckin weren't....

But all in all, I'm pissed. And I'm off some fuck you shit. Like if it aint about my peoples gettin better or being okay..... Fuck you.

That's where tha fuck I'm at.
In the words of Fight Club (the movie, not the book).
I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all the French beaches I'd never see. I wanted to breathe smoke....... I felt like destroying something beautiful.


I feel like setting the Mona Lisa on fire, stomping on daisies and bombing all of the 7 world wonders.
Fuck the world.

  • We went out last night and I realized this:

    I have no real vodka tolerance. I know what tequila drunk feels like. I see it coming.

    A Vodka drunk sneaks up on me. Then I be real drunk. I managed to find a 21 year old to hollar at last night. Wtf am I supposed to do with that?

    But then I topped myself on that shit. On the way out the door, I booked.....

    Wait for it. Wait for it.

    A 20 year old. I don't even know how he got up in the club..... But I sho gave him my number.....

    Could be fun. Take em out, and can't go but to 18 and up nights. All up in the club talkin bout - I'd buy you a drink but you know you only 20 boy. If it all works out, Imma start stalkin college nights.

  • I often write about my exes. Honestly, I think that sometimes the blog that is written as a result of the bullshit ass relationship is WAY better than the actual relationship. Apparently the writing of what happened has a way of pissing people off....yet yall still reading it regularly... which I never will understand. If something offends me, I tend to avoid it. Whatever. Don't be insulted. Be honored. My exes ought to all consider themselves my muses. You all inspire me.

    If you know me, you will probably end up in my blog. I will do you this one courtesy: You can pick your own Psuedonym. I will honor what you pick, so long as it makes sense and isn't anything crazy like "Big black dick slinger..."

  • Killa Season is an extra shitty movie. Extra shitty.



Ps. Ashley says hi!

Comments

Ms. Burt said…
Moms is going to do fine... this is life saving. It would be worse without this. I know that doesn't make it easier, but hopefully it gives some hope and minor piece of peace. I love you and am here. I know what it's like to be scared for mom, if you need me call me. Love you
22/12/08 6:47 AM
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