12.19.2005

It's confession time

To: Shut
From: Up
Date: ... now
Subject: [Insert 30 seconds of thinking up a vapid subject line.]

It’s confession time. Ladies, gentlemen, bitches and pricks: I have a problem.

I, honestly, am reaching a point to where I hate, hate, hate almost everything. See look, that’s obsessive-compulsive disorder right there, hate hate hate. That’s a problem, right?

Well, I think I should define my hate because I needn’t hate without reason. Let me see here:

• Politicans ... Hate. None of you tell the truth. You are puppets. See that? PUPPETS. George Bush might as well have a recent Harvard graduate stick his hand up Bush’s ass and make his mouth move. It’d make the writer’s job a lot easier. Well, on the contrary, Bush might like that, and I don’t want him to get any shape or form of pleasure. Maybe his mom could be the speech writer, and SHE could fist him!

• Religious bigots ... Fucking hate. Ya know, I used to have an old saying about someone I didn’t like and thought they weren’t attractive: “Fugly.” Fucking + ugly = Fugly. Well, I “fate” (new meaning for old word, ha!) religious bigots. Stay in your million-dollar temples. If one of you bastards steps on my front porch again with your black tie and white shirt (short-sleeved button-down, what the fuck?), I’m gonna let my shotgun song sang out.

Oh yeah, and instead of building one of those fucking gigantic churches, why don’t you donate that money to help buy school supplies or pay tuition for kids that can’t score a 25 on their ACT? Why don’t you help rebuild some of the homes around your church? Fucking assholes make me sick.

• Rich people ... This relationship is a hate/pity one. I know some extremely rich people. There are two polar opposites when dealing with them. There’s the rich girls I went to high school with or see at the mall that are totally oblivious to the fact that there’s a world outside of Seven jeans. Or Gucci. Or BMWs. They’re too stupid to attempt to explain how this world works. I’ll hate them till the day I die.

Then there’s the benevolent rich folks. Deep down, they’re good people. But I pity them in a way. One guy I know, for instance: He’s filthy rich — well his parents are. The reason I, being a poor white cracker, pity him is because he’s never known what it’s like to want, or even feel like you need, something and not get it. It fucking sucks, but it makes you a better person in the long run. He’ll never know what that’s like ... until he falls in love with a girl that can’t stand him, but that’s a different story.

• Talk radio ... Hate. Rush Limbaugh, if there is a hell, I hope they roast your fast ass till you’re well done and serve you to Howard Dean and John Kerry.

Bill Hicks said it perfectly, “Doesn’t Rush Limbaugh remind you of one of those gay guys that likes to lay in a tub while other guys pee on him?” Love it, Bill. Wish you weren’t dead.

... to be continued whenever I feel like it... I need to get back to work.

5 comments:

lucylu said...

comments... you swear a lot for a god fearing american.

Joke. I like. will read on.

Stupid question...but then the vodka has melted my grey stuff I believe...how on earth did you find my blog...or more to the point how on earth does one find ANY blog old chap???

addict x

lucylu said...

anal little chap arent you???

Checking all the comms before they publish?? hehe. Confused the hell outa little old me! you'll have the same one three times there!x

lucylu said...

you gona reply or WHAT??? I dont supposed I'd know where you'd reply if u did anyway!

Di-Spencer said...

AAAAAhh.. I see now. It's all coming together. I was looking at your site the whole time. I'm re-taaaaar-ded.

Di-Spencer said...

Update your blog, I'll look at it tomorrow... I'm off work now. peeeeeace