Sunday, December 25, 2011

Merry Christmas is just my treatise on why you should just kill yourself

*** Merry Fucking Christmas. ***

Write this half drunk.  Bottles of liquor scatter as you pace around the living room.  Empty beer cans get stacked on the dining room table.  You wipe the spilled scotch away from your brother's pink laptop  before it starts an electric fire.

Christmas Eve was spent at a lonely man's bar talking to the dead heads and the losers that drink on holidays instead of spending time with their family.  Even there no one speaks to you but the old bartender that still brings up your first meeting whenever she sees you. How you told her you were into killing and stalking bartenders and that, "should be wary of you."

But she was never scared.  Mostly because she could kick your ass.  Not that you are interested in fair fights.  You don't get into fair fights, only fights that you start when you know the outcome already.  Fights after you have poisoned her drink.  Fights where only you have a knife, slice her belly open, and wear a mask of her face at her at next year's Christmas Eve scaring the bejesus out of her kids when you scream, "Momy's back!!!"

"You take shit too far!"  Her boyfriend will scream at you and kick you out of the bar.  On the taxi drive home you lament your condition.  Home alone on St. Nick day.  Then stuck at home alone on Jesus' birthday.

Your family has abandoned you because of your lack of fidelity, and you don't have any friends.  So you drink some more.  You get fist fucked.  You cry yourself asleep because anxiety likes to masks itself as mania sometimes.

Christmas ain't fun like it used to be.  When all you needed was G. I. Joe and a blanket and your imagination.  Now your imagination just takes you deeper and darker.  It provides no way out though.  It just zaps you twenty years in the future.  You will be older, uglier, poorer, in less health.

You have to hand it to inertia and the human will to live.  You can't see why we don't just off ourselves.  Why not take some of the assholes down with us?  Attack the fat cats.  Attack the beautiful.  Get back your sanity.  Sew some fucking justice in the world.

But the world just mocks you with atrocities.

What you need is 1905 pages of justification.    Without god we are nothing.  Burning out our nihilism, we can ask only, "but why, sir?  must we continue?"

The negative answer is the only one you see.  Else we sputter in shame.  Caught up in our self indulgences.

Monday, December 19, 2011

I am way too nice now to give you a lecture on the passive-aggressive interplay between the sexes..

I am on this new kick where I am exposing myself to the world for being the nice guy that I really am. Today I am talking to you about my sensitive side, because I don't want you to think that if we were in a relationship, and you brought home a kitten I'd train it by lighting your bottle of hairspray on fire and spraying it at the cat.

I mean I would light the spray can on fire and and spray it every once and a while just to let the cat think that it is possible, and it better behave itself.

I think it is important to exert dominance over animals otherwise one day they may get it in their heads to to eat you if you forget the kibbles and bits.

Speaking of me being nice here are some pictures of Britney Spears looking less fat than before.

I guess if you are like Britney then you used to be cute but then you got pregnant and decided eating was way more fun that getting looked at by boys. I don't blame you for your over eating as men are assholes, and the mean truth of it all is that if Britney lost her high paying job and fame she'd just be another single mom at the community pool hoping to play house with some reformed gangster who just got out of jail for selling dope.

I don't know why you go after reformed gangsters, because gangsters don't take care of their own kids, so what makes you think he's going to take care of your smelly brats? The sad truth is he is just using you for sex and the sadder truth is you know it, but just can't help yourself. Your last boyfriend was so bad in the sack and had such a tiny disappointment for a penis that you will do anything short of shoplifting cucumbers to feel something in that stretched out womb of yours.

I applaud your life affirming decision. Most people in your situation have given up on life and have lost all their enthusiasm, but not you. It doesn't matter how much weight you gain you still feel entitled to an orgasm. I guess taking all those feminist classes in college wasn't a complete waste of money for your dad. I bet he rests at night easy knowing that your fat ass is getting hammered by a big black cock.

And I know that the reason I don't have a girl person, (even a girl person like you,) is that I am slacker and somehow being a slacker is worse than being a drug pusher.  "At least drug pushers have ambition." You'd say.

Also, I guess your biology compels you to mate with men who can take care of you. I understand that part of the psychology of women. What I don't understand is how you mix up the ideal of a 'man with ambition' with the current incarnation of man you are with who drinks all of your Budweiser and replaces it with the Natural Light that he steal from his pothead friends.

What makes even less sense to me is that most of the women who read this blog have money and don't need a man to take care of them. Even if they didn't have money, our modern society allows you to exert control over your own finances. But women are filled with the funniest anxieties. You all wonder how a man will react to you ending up in a wheel chair. Even though most people will never become paralyzed you constantly quiz your man over his desire to remain with you if "something truly awful ever happened to you."

The truth is most people bail in those situations, and you aren't being any different to me in my situation so stop being so judgmental. You aren't paralyzed, or horribly disfigured, but I am poor which is the male equivalant.

I am a bonafide slacker and therefore I will be unable to care for you. You don't need to worry about the possibility of me running off on you as you get older and ugly, as you are already bailing out on me faster than K-fed after he gets a girl pregnant. So the real question is not if I will stick around if you get deformed, that is a difficult mental equation invlolving my emotional attachment to you that has to be balanced by my future ability to acquire someone better. I make that calculation every second I am with you and asking me to turn that unconscious mechanism off is like asking me to stop breathing. I can try for a while but all it will do is is leave my blue in the face.

No, the only real question here to ask, is are you going to look past my inability to earn to see the real human being I am? Stop obsessing over hypothetical questions about the future. Ask yourself how you feel right now.

My guess is you can't, because deep down inside women are not liberated enough yet as a species. You ask questions like that because you don't assume you can take care of yourself. You aren't really looking for a partner, just a substitute for daddy in the bad times. Plenty of men date ugly women, thereby violating the state of nature that our male gender bequeaths to us, but most homeless men have to make do with raping shut ins- no matter how witty and clever they may be- because so few women have any real confidence in navigating life by themselves.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

I don't really hate fat chicks (reprise from bathos)

I was told I was fat because I have lifestyle issues not because, "it is in my DNA." Life style issues? I don't know what that guy is talking about. I don't have any life style "issues." I like my lifestyle. I have been drinking coke and surfing the net all day. I walked to McDonald's for lunch so I could buy a Big Mac Meal because they have their Monopoly promotion on again.

I have to say that buying Big Macs is a great investment strategy right now with the Stock Market in the tubes and all. For 7 dollars I got a large Bic Mac meal and two bags of ice. The super sized Big Mac meal came with 6 free chances to win a prize, so I feel like I am finally on the road to financial recovery.

Friday my work reissued my lost payroll check. I cashed it and took all the money to 7-11 to pay my electric bill. The kiosk took all my money, but it did not credit my account. I called the customer service number and they promised me that the money is going to be credited soon. "Maybe Wednesday or Thursday." The operator said. I told her that was kinda shady and she told me to stop eating chocolate graham crackers and cola after eating a Big Mac for lunch. I wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but she has a point. I'm fat. And because I am fat I promised to tell you the secreet to why fat chicks love sex. 

My initial hypothesis is an extension of an earlier theory I had on why the retarded love sex so much. If the mentally retarded are going to survive in the world they need to reproduce at a higher rate than the non-retarded. That is why evolution equips the retarded with an almost insatiable curiosity for sex. The retarded are constantly playing with themselves and dry humping unsuspecting visitors anytime some one knocks at the door.

I am not sure about "legally," but ethically you can't rape a retard because they love sex so much. I am pretty sure the same thing goes for fat chicks. If you have ever had sex with a fat chick then you know how grateful they are for penatration. FAt Chicks loves cock and even though you have heard the rumors that fat chicks gobble down all day on your rod because they are woried you will leave them for a skinny chick, I am telling you to skip the foreplay and go straight to the fucking.

As soon as you put it in a Fat chick she will scream like you are cutting through her with a chainsaw. I don't know about you, but I like a loud fuck. I like it when the girl bucks and screams your name and claws your back and begs you to put it in "deeper."

I did some research on the internet and by research I mean I watched a lot of fat chick porn on the internet. You know that I review amatuer porn clips but that I can never find a site that lets me embed the clips. I figured out why. I forgot that the best web site for embedding porn clips is Red Tube. Here is a fat chick. They look limber when they bang you.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Here is another "classic" post from Bathos!

I know I can't worry about you judging me for this post so that's why I went ahead and posted it

The day after I shot a man in the face was the first time I ever felt powerful, so I guess you can't blame me for scooping up the latest pictures of Miley Cyrus looking like a slut for your enjoyment. I don't like looking at a picture like this because unlike you I am not that much of a voyeur. I like having a normal girlfriend and a normal relationship life. That is why I am attracted to good looking, funny, and intelligent women-not the little girls you like. But I post these pictures as a service to you so you can jack off to them and stop circling the playground so much and worrying all the soccer moms that got that flyer from the sheriff's office with your picture on it. I know what you are thinking, if I am attracted to smart good looking chicks what is the problem? Why am I still single? How hard can it be since I like girls who are legal? I'd like to think it has something to do with how I am picky and I like really attractive women, but I think it has to do with how smart, cute, funny girls have standards and I never measure up well to standards, because unlike pedophiles I never practice trying to pass statistical tests. I am a creative type and we need more freedom and breathing room than the facts and figures can give.

You should think of me like an independent film with subtitles and no plot even though I am an American. I don't open the big screens like Batman does, but every once in a while a movie like me comes along and even though the first part is boring you start to appreciate a film where the character gets developed and the plot moves along in congruence with the feelings and ideas of a flesh and blood person, not simply as the side show for special effects.

I know what you are thinking that sometimes even quirky independent movies suck and you are sick and tired of how all the so called "quirky" characters in independent films are all really the same. That might be true, but sometimes when you floss your teeth they bleed out for three hours, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't go ahead and floss them once a week anyway.

Either way it appears that Miley Cyrus has no idea how to stop acting like a whore despite all the bad press, and I guess that is a good thing for you. It just goes to show you that god had something planned out right when it comes to repopulating the Earth with sluts. Every few years the sweetpre-teen with braces who loves daddy and jumps in the garden sprinkler grows breasts and discovers for herself that empowerment means having power, and since she does not have power in the real world she begins toying with the idea of using her sexual awakening against the pathetic man-boys staring at her through closed windows hoping to get a peak at her nipples when the water begins to work its magic on her bathing suit.

I don't know if you can tell the difference between this post and any other post I have written, but I will tell you that I was totally phoning this one in. The sad thing is I could write five or six of these posts a day and if I added a few more pictures of Miley and Britney I'd end up making a few dollars a week from Adsence. Instead I work hard all week looking for inspiration because I am stuck with the idea that you are looking for a blog with integrity. Even though I only write when I want to I still get worried that the people who read this blog are bored waiting around for the three posts I write a month, because they have decided that my blog is just not worth it if they are not sure what I stand for. I think you should give me a break and not force me to tell you in graphic detail what I do here, because if anything that only stokes the disdain I have for the audience which only means fewer posts for you. By now if there is something I should not have to tell you, it's that ifcarefully defined I have a great deal of integrity.

That's why I am always trying to come up with a new angle to attract someone other than the mid 30's married alternative mom that I can't seem to meet in real life, but only on the net where they are already married and ridden down with offspring, so I really have no hope of getting them to jump ship with me, so I guess I will always be alone, because I live in a town full of crack heads and old people who care more about money than well defined integrity. I guess what I am saying is that my sense of integrity compels me to point out how wrong it is for a preteen girl to feel OK about subtly using the power of her sexual awakening against a horde of horny social misfits for profit all the while complaining about all the misunderstandings that she is perfectly aware she is creating. Confusion about your burgeoning sexuality is not only natural, but is inherently a private affair; hence, it is no one's business. Not even a perverts. But the naked manipulation of said sexuality for purposes of avarice leaves one open to critique which is why you will find Miley's photos posted here. I hope you all appreciate how much I have had to hold your hand here, and explain things to you because then you can then begin to understand how much smarter I am than you. I know how thankful you are for this service, but it only fills me with pity for you. All this anxiety gives me a pit in my stomach that grows ever more hallow. I am sure you are all the reason I have acid reflux and throat cancer, and one day when I can't breathe from my esophagus closing in on me I want you to have a nice ceremony at my funeral where you engage my blog in the literary theory that you took at community college, which on second thought will probably end up sounding a lot like some small town Oprah Winfrey's book club meeting, so maybe I am having second thoughts on that. Maybe you could just convince a middling blogger to give me some air time now that it is clear to the world that I am not a pedophile just a hard working social critic.