Monthly Archives: January 2017

Not everything is real.

Never argue politics with a monkey, you aren’t going to get a good argument and it just frustrates the monkey and at some point he will unfriend you on Facebook. (Not a racial comment, but kind of a smack at what passes for intelligence nowadays.)

I got a serious hard on over the idea that I could offend people to the point of unfriending me on Facebook.

So I spent my whole week attacking people’s heartfelt beliefs.

Abortion? I argued both sides on the same comment thread, loud and arrogantly.

Blue vs Red? Again, I was a duplicitous, hypocritical shithead to anyone who would listen.

Hell, mid-week I was claiming that Girlscout cookies were a plot of the Russians, 2 comments later I posted video of Vlad Putin doing judo and claimed that I had changed my rescue dog’s name from Buttercup to Putin. (Side note: I don’t have a rescue dog named Buttercup. I have a collection of angry wolf pics that I claim is my dog. Its just to stir up shit with my simple minded animal rescue friends. Hysterical.)

The tally by the end of the week was 4 people unfriended me and a special 5th unfriended then texted me, calling me a cunt. (I have not figured out if I am offended yet.)

My favorite comment of the week was to a, for lack of a better term, Libtard that had the annoying habit of insulting people and then being a pussy and claiming he wasn’t.

The line that preceeded my comment was his.

“I thought thought this was America, freedom of speech and all that.” (In the context of the discussion, it was condescending and douchie)

My comment:

“Try not to think, its not your strength and it only makes my dick itch. Shut your dick holder and be quiet, the adults are talking.”

Unfriended in under one minute from when I pressed enter, a new record.

All in all, its been a fun week.

There is a part of me that really should be questioning whether or not this is a good thing.

Except that I don’t care.

I mean, the people who unfriended me are not really going to be missed, so I can’t see a downside to this.

But my disappointment is huge.

I am of the firm opinion that you, in a certain sense, can be judge by the acquaintances you keep.

If they can’t be challenged on what they claim is their core beliefs without unfriending people, what does that say about me?

Why was I ok with friending that weak minded piece of shit in the first place?

I blame myself.

Moving on.

If I could keep up that kind of pace, I could be totally FB friendless by my birthday.

And wouldn’t that be awesome?

If you are confused, let me explain.

See, Facebook isn’t real.

If I know you in real life, we are varying degrees of friends.

But, on Facebook?
It is iffy that you exist at all.

But you are definitely there for my amusement.

This is not as sociopathic as you think.

Its more of an eccentric continual search for amusement.

Harmless and amusing.

Just not for you.

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Posted by on January 30, 2017 in Uncategorized


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The tell tale smell of fear and urine.

I’m not being a pussy.

There is a fine line between being superstitious about a date on the calendar and living in abject, shit yourself stark terror at the thought of a particular date on a calendar.

You wake up on Friday the 13th and realize that you are laying in a puddle of your own urine.

And it only goes downhill from there.

Someone tried to tell me that “It’s just another day, its no big deal”.

If this was a horror film, they would be the one that decides to investigate the abandoned boat house by themself.

In other words, they will be the first to die horribly.

Fear is a funny thing.

Not funny ha ha, but funny like scared and you turn and run into a pole funny.

I lost my keys on the last Friday the 13th.

That may not sound like much, but if I fell into a wood chipper trying to find them, you would feel differently, wouldn’t you?

See what I mean?

“But you didn’t fall into a wood chipper.”

Thank God!

I got lucky that Friday the 13 decided to find a victim elsewhere that day.

There are only 2 Friday the 13ths this year.

At least that spreads out the horror instead of it being just 1 day.

When its just 1 day, 1 Friday the 13th in a year, that is some powerful mojo.

That is like Y2K, planes falling from the sky, MASS HYSTERIA kind of day.

2 in a year is more of your, cheesy slasher film kind of horror.

That I can deal with.

All I need is coffee and to hear that click on the door of my panic room.

Then I can just sit there naked and drink my coffee and wait for the inevitable.

Why am I naked?

Why are you clothed? (Let’s not get bogged down with a lot of questions.)

Side note. A dog barked next door and I just about pissed myself. Shut that beast up, some of us are trying to quiver in fear, for God’s sake!

The sad part is, I have to go to work.

I showered and narrowly escaped slipping and cracking my head open.

I shaved and almost cut my throat open when my razor broke.

The drive to work was like a Mission Impossible car chase.

I am sitting at my desk, waiting for a disgruntled co worker to go on a rampage.

So I realize I am on borrowed time here.

Tell my kids I love them.

At some point, I am sure a Syrian refugee will commit an act of some sort in my vicinity with dire consequences.

Its kind of a “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and it will probably kill you.” type of thing.

So, if I survive the day and I am not in a medically induced coma, (Might be the only way to save me) I will write about my survival next week.

Until then, keep your head down, drink your coffee, and for God’s sake, put some pants on.


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Posted by on January 13, 2017 in Uncategorized


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