One of those days where you feel like everyone hates you, like the world itself is crushing your spirit. I dunno, I guess right now that nothing could fix what ails me. But just what is it that ails me exactly?
Is it the season ending episode of The Walking Dead heralding in around seven months of complete boredom? Probably not, but it ain't helping. Not sure what it is, but it leaves me squirming in my seat, clutching at the corporeal...
Will anyone hear the muffled cries of the self damned, or will it even turn a head or two?
Or will the daydreams of the unfettered mind continue to waft and drift on their own, oblivious to the throb of mein own pulsating...
Flatulence. The stink of indifference and unbridled malice towards the romantic notion that it'll all just be hunky dory. When, in truth, it is not...
It all ends with someone's last breath wheezing out of them, people scurrying to get a better ganders, and a bunch of worthless fucks looking at their watches at the wake. They are all as dead as the man in the casket, their material forms just haven't been hipped to the jive yet.
Why bother to tell them? That's almost not even actually a question, more a statement of...
Utter defeat, for now.
Lady Ice's heart will melt, won't it?
And just how many winters can she hold?
Anyway. What's up, you fucking nerds? I just finished watching Game of Thrones, season one. It is a really good show, I just wish the softcore porn aspect of it would dry up and blow away. Episode five featured some guy's ding dong, and around ten seconds of hearing a dood blow another dood.
Now look, I'm not against gay people. Not at all.
But do I need it in The Lord of the Rings?
Hells naw.
Also, disregard my earlier meanderings of malignant poo-ness. It helps to get it all out, in some form or another. I prefer off the wall ramblings and hidden meanings in mein.
One last thing: The Harlem Shake.
I love it and it never fails to release the mirth.
Oops, just got a ringy dingy on my phone.
What now, peeps?
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