Well we are now in a state of consent midnight and I for one love it. I am sure the only things that high expectations will bring us is massive failure and disappointment.
One thing I would like to get off of my chest. I will admit that I let a person’s comments get to me a little bit. I will not say that name as this person is a reader or perhaps my stories have pissed this person off to the point that they will no longer read. What could these comments have been? One thing that really gets under my skin is when somebody calls me a jock. Possibly because I associate that word with guys that are cheesy, singular and all around lame. Three things that I am not. So this person is very upset with my blogs and how I talk about and treat people, females to be exact. Here is what I have to say to this.
While you may think I am being jocular with my comments, commentary, stories or philosophies I am not. Instead I am merely stating my feeling and opinions. It is not my fault that I am so good at this people love to hear my stories and thoughts on various subjects. See, I have this gift, a gift of story telling. So if you find some personal offense to what I have written I do not apologize for your poor self esteem. If I have not named you by name then forget about it. If you think that I mistreat people, I do. If you think that I objectify women, you’re right I can’t see past their vaginas. If you think I think people are generally stupid, don’t you? If you think that I am a selfish prick, guilty as charged. Why do you think people read this?
Please do not blame me because you were made fun of a good portion of your life. That is not my fault. All I am trying to do is show you how perfect I really am and give you my version of the truth. If you like it, great keep reading. If you don’t, take my blog off of your bookmarks under favorites and stop reading.
Other then that I have had a pretty quiet week. I have not been woken up from a nice nap by a desperate chick calling my name out of my window. You know the second you pulled out and flipped out I forgot you were alive. Have fun coming home to a studio apartment with trash on the floors eating cookie dough because I know you can stand to add on type two diabetes to your growing list of physical problems.
Aside from the big national election there were a lot of state issues that were on the ballot. Armed with my voter sheet that I made after extensive research I went to vote after work. Thinking there was going to be a huge line I bring some chips and soda with me, walked the two blocks to my polling place and walked right in. Some fucking hype with this long line shit, try no fucking line. But here is the best part of my voting experience, my place had tables set up so you could see everyone in the room. I guess we don’t believe in a secret ballot up here. I must say it was beyond awesome to see people go right for President then feel that they had to vote on everything else. The problem was they had no fucking idea what any other issues were so they would read the caption and look worried. The look of worry gave way to the look of “fuck it” and they ended up just putting anything on there. Now did I vote on every issue? No I did not, I felt there were a few on the ballot that I really didn’t feel effected me so I left that up to people that truly cared one way or another. There was one ballot issue that was a hot button here in California.
That’s right, can the gays get “married?” A little background on this, back in 200 we voted that they could not, then the California Supreme Court ruled that they could. So for all those Howard Stern listeners out there, because of our great state George Takei was able to put a ring around Brad’s big balls. Not to long after the religious right saw that gays were getting married they flipped the fuck out and were able to get Prop 8 on the ballot. This was written to over turn the CSC and put that marriage is only between a man and a woman. So a vote yes would mean Brad and George go back to humping once a week, with George keeping all of his money. A vote No would say, no I want gay people to be miserable like the rest of the married people out there.
My vote on this was no. I mean really who gives a fuck? Some chicks like their vaginas so much that’s all they want to fuck. While some dudes like getting split open by a guy. No big fucking deal. So this Prop looked like it was going to go down until the out of state Mormons pumped millions and millions of dollars to scare families into thinking that their kids would be taught in school gay marriage. As of right now I don’t think they have called it, but when I last checked that fucker was going down and the entire city of San Francisco is about to riot.
I ask the out of state Mormons this. You have your own state and you are rapidly taking over others. Please, you people need to know that you are fucking psychotic. These are the same people that will make fun of a Mexican family for having five kids that can’t afford and they will turn around and have 8. I find it even stranger that all Mormon kids look the same, all blonde, pale and lifeless just like you. So when you die after being a good person by judging others have fun on your own planet. Oh wait that’s right when you die you have two options cremation or put in the ground. Hopefully you choose to be put in the ground so the only eternity you have is rotting. Please, don’t bring your out of state issues into mine because the next time you do I will drive to Utah and introduce to your young high school and college youths the amazing powers of crack. Then I will get to have the last laugh seeing them become homeless bums in San Francisco. Your boys will have no choice but to suck a dick just for a happy meal and your girls will find themselves taking orders from a pimp on a bike.
I will offer this to all of my readers. An idea from super fan Kelly Mac, if there is a topic you would like me to cover one week just fill out a comment and let me know what it is. Kelly has already given me one, so look for that next blog. Then, after years of waiting I get to be the best man at a Mexican wedding, si mon.
Well, I wouldn't understand you to know what the meaning of jock is nowadays. I mean, you're almost thirty and you're still chasing after younger girls so let me clarify for you. What I meant when I called you a jock is this: A fake self-assurance that you broadcast to everybody else because that's what you want to be even though you're still just that little, insecure nerd you were in high school who hung out with your "group" of people and thought you were cool. Does that clarify things a bit? Perhaps if you focused on something other than yourself and your own meanings of things, you could possibly see past that.
ReplyDeleteDo I find your blogs offensive? No, I think it's hilarious that you're so miserable with your "amazing life" and your awesome ability to get dates with girls that you meet online that you've let shit get to your head so fast that you think demeaning a woman because she doesn't let you stick your miserable excuse for a penis inside of her the first night you meet is just reason to degrade them and call them names (all things you wouldn't do to their faces, sorry). I mean, they're decent enough to meet with and buy a Big Mac or coffee for but as soon as they keep the legs shut, they're whores that have Type 2 Diabetes and rolls all over them.
Do I take personal offense to it? Of course not. I, unlike the girls you pick up at bars or online, don't have to deal with that crap. I happen to have a certain amount of self-confidence that you'll never have and in addition to that, I have a brain. Also, I've had the "privilege" of having sex with you and let's just say that was subpar.
I would be the first to admit to you that people are generally stupid. However, I don't force myself to hang out with them in an effort to get laid. We like to call these standards. You might want to Google the definition because you quite obviously don't have any.
Now, to address the assumption that I was made fun of most of my life. Sorry, not true. Although I wish I would have been because I may possibly be as jaded and cynical as you. The sarcasm, being opinionated, the intelligence; that's all me. Before you attempt to psychoanalyze my behavior, perhaps you should pass a higher level Psychology class than just the requirements for your Bachelor's in History. How is that working for you by the way? Does your degree have anything to do with your job or did you spend eight years in college for an undergrad degree that you're never going to use?
Now, I hope you enjoy discussing politics with these "desperate chicks" that you spend your days with. Oh wait, according to you, they can't even stimulate your mind, let alone your cock. Poor you! Must suck being better than everybody else and being unable to score a female that's on that level.
This chick elizabeth sounds like a right cunt. I enjoy your stories, keep up the good work. Elizabeth needs to get plowed again. Or maybe she's into scissoring instead?
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