Friday, March 25, 2011
I will never stop being your Hobo, no matter what I say
I'm like the original Charlie Sheen. My prose was blowing you away years ago. You were feasting off my tiger blood, and we were #winning, and everything seemed great to you. You thought it would never end.
I bet you still don't understand why I left you. Sure, you understand that you were never enough for me. That I have always had plans to jump ship and head off to bigger waters. You get that I hate being a big fish in a little pond. But for some reason you thought that you would have access to me for the rest of your pathetic lives.
How wrong you were.
Because I just came up with another million dollar idea.
It involves a paper bag puppet of baby jesus and Youtube and is sure to make me a millionaire.
As soon as I am rich I will forget all about the little peons that have supported me over the years. i'll forget about the 5 dollars the drug monkey once gave me for writing about Ethiopians. Money I never cashed in, because I was too proud to take money back then. Not now. I will take all your money if you want to give it to me. I will sleep with your underage daughters. I will stick my dirty pinky finger in your peanut butter- just out of spite, because I am fucking hobo.
I'm a fucking hobo, but I wear my hobo on the inside. I don't hop trains. I take showers and get grossed out by too large spiders. I will only touch your spider if you offer me some Xanax afterwards to calm me down. Also, I will flirt with your girlfriend when you aren't around, because there is a possibility you could kick my ass.
I only fight kids, girls, and midget (and fellow hobos if we are both drunk on fermented malt liquor and getting pissed about how long the bus is taking to show up.)
So just take that into consideration the next time you stop by this blog and you don't see me updating it. You should understand that my brain has stopped working. That my attention span has wandered off. It's playing meth games with porn stars. It's raping women in the bathroom, it's MTV cutting away to strangulation videos. It's searching for decapitation videos while I strangle my own neck.
I don't have time anymore to write. I lack focus. And the only thing that keeps me alive is wondering about what the next mobile device I will own looks like. Will it have 3D? I am sure it will . I think we all need 3D capture on our phones. That way when I choke the life out of you, it will be like your parents are in the same room. It will be your last bonding moment together. Frankly, I can't think of any more "real" moment you have ever had with your parents than the one they will get watching you suffocate at the hands of some chubby 40 year old molester as he snuffs the last breath out of you.
You owe me for that.