I find the Fabio guy's posts hilarious but I want to punch the other guy in the face. He is a total dick. Why don't you just do the blog by yourself?
Wait, you don't like me?!? What the fuck? How can I ever find a way to get on with my...... already over it. I'm sure that your hands are covered in KFC chicken grease at the moment but try to dig all of the residue from crack and hobo-semen out of ears and listen up. Reading this is the greatest thing that has ever happened in your sad, pathetic life. When you are in bed in the middle of the night and the oppressing loneliness of the night wraps it's strangling tentacles around your heart remember this: there are people getting raped in prison that are glad they are not you. But hey, no hard feelings, I respect your stupid, useless opinions about as much as I respect the ramblings of a child-molesting member of the tea party. So, in the interest of democracy I have decided to put together a list of things you can do besides read my half of the blog.1) Go jogging. Seriously honey, you could lose a few. Or, if you are not the athletic type you could always throw up after you eat. After all, you don't want to spend the rest of your life sleeping with the teddy bears you had delivered to yourself on Valentine's day. "Oh, these? These are from my boyfriend Brad, he lives in Kansas City." Sure they are flesh-belt, keep living the dream.
2) Take all the Ani Difranco posters off of your wall. It makes you look like a lesbian. If you are a lesbian, other lesbians think your Ani Difranco posters make you look like a lesbian. There is such a thing as trying to hard. I imagine you as a woman who experimented with homosexuality in your late teens/early twenties when it became obvious that nothing penis-related wanted anything to do with you. Then you quickly realized that the grittiest bull-dyke at the sports bar wasn't interested in your busted-ass chops either. So now you tell people you are bisexual in the hopes that it will make you seem interesting and unique where it is really a desperate ploy to get noticed by anything that doesn't end in the letters "ildo."
3) Become involved in a "pen-pals-for-convicts" program. Seriously, aim for guys on death row. There is no chance that you will ever get to touch them, they don't care what you look like as long as you keep filling their commissary fund and showing up to visit. have you seen the caliber of women that marry dudes they met while they were in prison, you'd fit right in. And, if on the off-hand chance he gets out he'll probably kill you and eat your face! Everybody wins!
4) Accept the idea that you will die alone.
5) Start your own blog you judgmental bitch. Oh, that's right, you just can't miss an episode of Law and Order: SVU to get off your cavernous ass and contribute something to the world. That's just too hard. Let's just leave the writing to John Grisham shall we.
6) Keep working on your memoirs. Every gross, lonely, trollop of a human I have ever met keeps a journal that they refer to as a "memoir." Because people are interested in reading that. Shit, Albert Einstien's memoirs collect dust on bookstore shelves and you think people will have an interest in a book called "me and cool-ranch Doritos: a life adventure?" I would like to read a selection from your "memoir." "January 28, 2004. It's my twenty first birthday. Will I ever find true love? I wonder why Daddy refers to my birthday as "the worst day of his life? Oh well, tonight is the My So Called Life marathon and I have a freezer full of Oreos. Party time!!!" Fantastic stuff, just fantastic.
The craziest part is that you can tell our shit apart. It's pretty much identical in its' brilliance. It's like saying which one is better out the Rolling Sones and The Beatles. They are both perfect. Just like us. So fuck you.
I just want to go ahead and call racism. I mean, as far as you know one person writes all this shit. But you see a picture of a black guy with his shirt off and it kinda made you tingle down there in your bathing suit area, didn't it? Then you were overwhelmed with guilt because all you could think about was a raw chocolate pounding and that is at odds with everything your hillbilly Klansman family beat in to your head. So now you want to take it out on my friend? We'd like to hear some of your love advice. You think this shit comes easy? Knowledge like this only comes from years of research. I have laid my dick on the crap table so many times just trying to understand the ins and outs of human sexuality. I have stuck my dick in holes that a starving rat with AIDS wouldn't crawl in to. But, like Patrick Swayze said in Point Break (The greatest movie of all time, might I add) "If you want the ultimate, you have to be willing to pay the ultimate price". Do you know how many dates I have been on pretending to feign interest in your career in marketing, your poetry, your last three relationships or whatever other drivel you want to bore me with until I'd just about rather stick a skewer in my ear than hear you prattle on? Do you know how many movies I've had to watch, snuggling up with someone who thinks I'm their "special boo"? I've seen the Notebook and Breakfast at Tiffany's a combined total of 13,000 times. Do you know how many times I have had to hear someone say "what are you thinking about?" Do you know how many times I've had to give the "It's not you, it's me" speech just so that I could continue my research? Did you know that me and my colleague actually have sponsors for this gig? Hagen Daz and Valtrex. The more hearts we break, the more pints of Hagen Daz get bought. Yep, a crying woman and a pint of Ice Cream go together like the Insane Clown Posse and that fat kid from high school that strangled cats. And I personally leave a free sample of Valtrex on the nightstand of every girl's house I leave. I say "Try this. You're gonna need it". So while you go around throwing judgement, think about what it takes to be a Love Translator. You don't have what it takes.Sponsored by:
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