Sick and tired

Literally.

I took a sick day today.

Do I have a fever? Yes. Congestion? Yes. Headache? Yes. Muscle aches? Yes. Could I have probably worked anyway? Yes.

But seriously, today I kind of got to this point where I started wondering what the hell I’m doing out here. For the most part, I really like my job, but for the moster part, I really can’t stand most of the assholes I work with…which is why I referred to them as assholes just now.

They are a bunch of homophobic, racist, mean, back-handed fascist mother fucking pretty boys and I swear to god I’m right on the verge of caving in someone’s face.

Blah blah blah, I’m so tough…whatever man, whatever.

I’m just pretty frustrated, that’s all. So today I have been laying in bed. All god damn day. And it’s been nice and rainy and overcast, which is awesome because gloomy days are the best days for playing hookey and paying hookers. Or just not going to work, whatever. I don’t care. You can do whatever you want with your money or your vagina…however, you are pretty limited with what you are allowed to do with a penis. Seriously, there’s only like three things, that’s all you get.

 

So, my uncle died yesterday…I guess I should throw that out there.

He was a baller though, real shot caller, except actually more of an artist.

Mother fucker got diagnosed with prostate cancer twenty some odd years ago and was given three years max…and then, like I just typed out if you were paying attention, he went to live on for twenty some odd years. Because that’s what baller shot caller artists do. And they do it in the butt…because that’s where you prostate is. I’m not talking about sodomy, that shit’s gross because I’m a homophobic, racist, mean back-handed fascist mother fucking pretty boy.

 

It’s really weird not knowing anyone in Texas…well, actually that’s not entirely true. One of my friends just randomly ended up moving out here at the exact same time I did. We didn’t plan it. Pretty wild stuff, eh? She’s starting a food truck business type thing, and i am going to drive around with her and make sure none of the food is poison…with chemical testing, of course. I’m not going to be eating food that is potentially poison. Are you fucking retarded?

 

I finally got settles in to my apartment, and I got my computer rolling, but I hate it and I think I’m going to smash it and light it on fire and get a new one because…seriously, are you not paying attention to what you’re reading it? I literally JUST said I hate it. Jesus Christ.

Let’s see, let’s see…what else…whaaaaaaaaaat else.

Ummmm, I think this is the longest I’ve been single since I was like fifteen or something. Which would be more impressive if I was actually thirty, but I’m twenty seven…that’s what my drivers license and birth certificate and passport say…well, actually they say 07-17-1985, but I hired a guy to do the math, and his name is My Drivers License and Birth Certificate and Passport. 

I keep thinking I’m thirty for some reason…oh yeah, and I’ve been single for like three years or something. Whatever, I’m not a loser, I just got sick of dating squirters and having to clean up after them. Yeah, true story. Fucking cunts. Who do they think they are, having insane visual orgasms n shit. Fuck that. Fuuuuuuuuck that.

I’m probably going to be single for the rest of my life, but it’s cool because

A: I’m alright with cats.

B: I have a fake girlfriend on facebook…which, I honestly do. It’s a long story and I don’t feel like getting in to it because you’re not the boss of me, but basically it’s just like having a girlfriend…except I don’t have to deal with all of that annoying sex. You know, we just talk about our feeling n shit…it’s great. I love that shit. I LOVE THAT SHIT.

Actually I’m trying to figure out how to break it off, but it seems tricky because how do you really break off a fake relationship…and do I even need a reason? Can I just get on facebook and just do it? Do I even have to tell her, or should I just let her figure it out? Maybe I’ll break up with her through a meme. That actually sounds like it could be a great story to tell our grandchildren.

C: Fuck bitches

D: I don’t ever have to shower if I don’t want to.

E: Every day I’m single, I get cooler by .06%

F: I went and ate at Church’s Chicken and got AIDS anyway. All the racist homophobes in my office told me it would give me AIDS, but I didn’t believe them…man, don’t I feel like a dum dum now! 

 

…they do have really good gravy though, it was worth it.

 

Psyche, bitches. I aint never been to no Church’s Chicken. When those assholes told me it would give me AIDS I decided right then and right there that I was going to march across the street and go order my chicken strips from CHIxN EssPRESS

Right this moment, I’m thinking to myself, "Why do I choose to spend my time doing the things I do? Why is my bosses wife so depressingly ugly? And, how bored would you have to be to make it this far into reading this entry? Seriously…how bored are you? Did you know there is porn on the internet? A lot of it! You could be doing that instead!"

 

Speaking of porn, I was working with this guy who paid his way through college by doing jack off webcam shows for gay dudes…and then he told me I should do it. He’s like, "It’s cool man, I’m not gay or anything, I’m just laid back."

So I created an account…so now I have a profile on a webcam site. But I haven’t gotten on to it yet…because, well I don’t know why. I keep meaning to. Apparently the money is really good, and I mean, jacking off isn’t my LEAST favorite thing to do.

But I feel like I need to get a game plan first, you know? Get a blue screen or something, jack off in space, or while riding a dragon, or in to a dolphins blow hole.

I believe they call it "Zazzz"

Or, "Pizazzz" in some parts of the world. Mostly India and poor parts of Mexico.

 

My dick is huge, and you’re never going to get the time you spent reading this back.