Foamy: You know what pisses me off? You know, when you're having a conversation with someone, and for some reason, you get on a particular topic. In this case, let's say... the topic is... nuts. Don't you hate how the other person usually has to make some dumbass sexual comment creating some kind of lame-ass pun based on your legitimate topic of conversation? Let's say you say something like "I'm not sure I like those nuts, they leave a weird taste in my mouth." Then the other person, in usual dumb ass fashion, just has to say something like "Uhh, you don't like the nuts in your mouth? Hehehe." And then he or she giggles like an idiot for a half hour because they think they made a clever joke out of your topic of conversation. These people need to be killed! I'm sick and tired of people warping simple topics into something perverted. And God forbid if you're a woman who gets caught up in some kind of twisted wordplay like this. Before you know it, everyone at school or work is getting on your back because you made a comment about a large ball. It's unnecessary, it's stupid, and it just shows that you're thinking with your sexual organs rather than your brain. This being the case, someone should glue your mouth to your butt, so they may illustrate the fact that you truly, indeed, suck ass.
Next topic; drunk people! You know, the type of asshole who always has to get shitfaced on the weekend and go staggering around, patting you on the back like you're his best friend, when all you really want him to do is get in his car and drive home recklessly. I'm sick and tired of some incoherent asshole who smells like a case of malt liquor all of a sudden talking about the philosophy of life while trying to pick up some woman at a bar. Nice. And what's worse, those ****ing dolts who go around and actually tell you how ****ed up they got the night before; like they deserve some type of award for falling face first into a patch of tomatoes in your backyard at four AM in the morning. And don't forget, (in mocking voice) "friends don't let friends drive drunk." Screw that! As far as I'm concerned, give 'em the keys rev up the engine, and let 'em go sailing home with a bottle of taquila in their lap. One of three things will happen. 1: The cops will pull them over and end up having to beat the shit out of them, just because this ****er is in a drunken rage and refuses to turn off Neil Diamond's "They're Coming to America". Number 2: They'll wrap themselves around a telephone pole and either be killed or paralyzed. Cruel, you say? Well, so is inflicting your drunken stupidity on the rest of the world, so be ready to pay the consequences. Asshole. Scenario number 3, my least favorite: They make it home okay and pass out on the lawn with their motor running, while the radio is blasting some dumbass metal song from the mid-80's that no one wants to hear anymore. But at least it gives 'em a chance to try again next week.
So if you're a drunken moron or an idiot who has to manipulate legitimate conversations to get a cheap thrill for your libido, please feel free to get together with one another on the weekends, drive around drunk, make all the twisted sexual comments you like. And I'll just watch from the local diner window as they scrape your body off the pavement with a ****ing spatula. Get out of our ****ing lives, your moronic assholes. Your existence is useless, and you're dragging down the collective intelligence of humanity. (mocking voice) Don't like what I have to say? (/mocking voice) Here's the keys and a bottle of Crack Daniels. I'll see you tomorrow. But hopefully not.
You will all feel the wrath of my nuts! I SWEAR!
Copyright: Jonathan Ian Mathers: 2005.
www.illwillpress.com
Next topic; drunk people! You know, the type of asshole who always has to get shitfaced on the weekend and go staggering around, patting you on the back like you're his best friend, when all you really want him to do is get in his car and drive home recklessly. I'm sick and tired of some incoherent asshole who smells like a case of malt liquor all of a sudden talking about the philosophy of life while trying to pick up some woman at a bar. Nice. And what's worse, those ****ing dolts who go around and actually tell you how ****ed up they got the night before; like they deserve some type of award for falling face first into a patch of tomatoes in your backyard at four AM in the morning. And don't forget, (in mocking voice) "friends don't let friends drive drunk." Screw that! As far as I'm concerned, give 'em the keys rev up the engine, and let 'em go sailing home with a bottle of taquila in their lap. One of three things will happen. 1: The cops will pull them over and end up having to beat the shit out of them, just because this ****er is in a drunken rage and refuses to turn off Neil Diamond's "They're Coming to America". Number 2: They'll wrap themselves around a telephone pole and either be killed or paralyzed. Cruel, you say? Well, so is inflicting your drunken stupidity on the rest of the world, so be ready to pay the consequences. Asshole. Scenario number 3, my least favorite: They make it home okay and pass out on the lawn with their motor running, while the radio is blasting some dumbass metal song from the mid-80's that no one wants to hear anymore. But at least it gives 'em a chance to try again next week.
So if you're a drunken moron or an idiot who has to manipulate legitimate conversations to get a cheap thrill for your libido, please feel free to get together with one another on the weekends, drive around drunk, make all the twisted sexual comments you like. And I'll just watch from the local diner window as they scrape your body off the pavement with a ****ing spatula. Get out of our ****ing lives, your moronic assholes. Your existence is useless, and you're dragging down the collective intelligence of humanity. (mocking voice) Don't like what I have to say? (/mocking voice) Here's the keys and a bottle of Crack Daniels. I'll see you tomorrow. But hopefully not.
You will all feel the wrath of my nuts! I SWEAR!
Copyright: Jonathan Ian Mathers: 2005.
www.illwillpress.com
