tl;dr synopsis:
Bitch is crazy.
I Like Sandwiches.
Dracula Pwns.
Fuck Free Credit Report Dot Com Guy.
For the Lulz.
Well shit, now I don’t even feel like writing it all out because that was pretty much the idea, but I’m tired of having porn sent to my phone as an act of desperation.
I might have mentioned this crazy bitch to some of you in the last months, and some of you might have asked what the deal was, and I told you that this shit was entertaining to my friends, and provided infinite lulz. Just like this is going to now.
Crazy Bitch has been jonesing all up on my shit for awhile now, much to my chagrin, and wouldn’t lay off even when I was involved with someone else. When we stopped dating, bitch got even worse about it, much like a ravenous vulture. The disrespect of emotional space was far out of hand, which is amusing because she’s so fucked in the head that she thinks I’m some sort of video game that she can hit the reset button on when she fails. That’s the most entertaining part about it. Sadly I don’t find any actual pleasure in any of this, so I can’t even call it some sort of morbid perversion or sadism. Then I’d enjoy it, alas I find myself completely uninterested in the desires of said crazy bitch. We can talk about how she made a subsequent line of fuckups to further decrease her attraction value.
One:
YOU ARE A FUCKING PSYCHO STALKER!!!!!!ONE!!!!11!!!cow!
I tried to be civil about telling you that, and to stop it, I had no problems being regular friends. You of course continue to act like a psycho stalker, as the constant flow to my incoming texts are spammed by your pointless pictures no one cares about, whining and bitching, topic starting ice breakers that are also about shit nobody cares about, porn of yourself (which I would post on the internet for the amusement of others but you already do that on your own), and other completely desperate pointless shit. I am a fan of random shit, but not random shit NO ONE FUCKING CARES ABOUT. How is ANY of that shit attractive whatsoever? If this is how the fuck you act when pursuing my interest, what the hell kind of girlfriend are you going be? What the hell stupid crazy shit are you fucking going to do when (not if, because you’re fucking crazy) we broke up? What the FUCK is appealing about any of that? I already had a Psycho bitch girlfriend in high school. We don’t talk. Her younger sister is hot. Aside from that, you’ve already spit out embarrassing personal things about your other exes. That already makes me wary because of the shit you’re going to go and talk about me. People make money off of bitches who are serious fuckups at attracting people.
I AM NOT A GOD DAMN VIDEO GAME. You can’t hit reset when you fail. You somehow don’t quite understand that, and tend to try and “start over.” Unfortunately, your attempt to put in adequate cheat codes has failed even more. Even if you think I think this, whatever it is (I told Elsa today that it’s some sort of performance art, because it provides O’Dwyer amongst others with Lulz during the daily grind) is a game, it’s not. A game would be fun and stimulating. You’re more like a rash I can’t publicly scratch because it would look awkward.
TWO: The fucking sandwich incident.
Clearly you do not know of me, and my legends of the epic sandwich trolling of Enthroned. Or my unabashed love of a really good sandwich. Sandwiches are fucking awesome. Even Jack in the Box sandwiches, and I especially like the patty melt. I LOVE Sandwiches, more than Christ (More than Christ loved sandwiches. I don’t love Christ much at all, even though I’m sure hippies tell me he loves me. STFU and get back to Vampire Cults and Magic Tricks, that’s what you do awesome! We can have beers later if you want!)! Yes, it was very silly of me to bite the hook when tossed some sandwich bait out there. Telling me you’d make me the best sandwich I’d ever had, even the though you live WAY THE FUCK 70 MILES AWAY IN THE WOODS. It took me 2 hours to get there between being lost, and traffic from highway construction. So I get there, and you have shit to make sandwiches with. You have frozen fucking bread and some shitty lunch meat. I tried to be as not as much of an asshole as I could about your terrible, terrible excuse for a sandwich. That’s a Lie. I mentioned with the money I spent on gas, I could have gotten a badass fucking sandwich at a five star restaurant. Your feeble pleas of gas compensation and “I’ll fuck you while you’re eating it” do NOT make the fucking sandwich better. That’s sex and a sandwich, which is completely the fuck different than THE BEST SANDWICH I’VE EVER HAD, which you were very adamant about for three fucking nights in a row. So I decided to go see the best sandwich ever and was completely let down. Your best excuse was not knowing I’d actually come, despite asking for directions when lost. So…You had the fuck 2 HOURS to go get some adequate sandwich shit. Then you say you told your mom and that “She was sad we did not bone.” Maaaaaaaaaaan….how fucked up is that when your mom is disappointed that you don’t get laid. Go to numbers and pick up a drunk 17 year old Canibal Corpse worshiping fag, for fucks sake. Literally, for FUCK’s Sake. More importantly, this is a gross domestic care failure. You all know how crazy my mom is. She flips out and goes haywire if I’m gone for three days without calling, despite the fact I can afford independence, she keeps pestering me to remain at home, so I do, for her sake. Needless to say the psychological issues that develop from that lead towards the fact that I expect women to act in a traditional role, or in the very least, know how to. The inability to provide an adequate meal demonstrates a negative s&r value on your part. Aside from that colossal failure, you’re quite fuck adamant on naming your child Toast. FUCKING TOAST. Then your response to my WTF moment, because that’s a terrible thing to do to a child, giving them a name that is guaranteed to invite unneeded hardship when its parents are already going to start it off fucked up, was “what’s in a name?” If that were how you felt, you wouldn’t be on a cunt spree about naming your children something retarded. I doubt your child rearing potential on a primal and instinctual level, it tells me to get the fuck away from you: DAMAGED GOODS.
Other attempts at failed cheat codes:
Sex: No. I do not find you remotely physically attractive, despite your creative use of photography angles to make yourself appear as something you’re not. Myspace totally gets ugly chicks action. I am aware of how awesome I am while not severely depressed over pointless and stupid shit. I can go pick up some trash whenever I want, with ease. Getting laid is not a concern to Justin. Because…you know, Brandi has all those hot friends in their thirties.
“I’m a Muse”: Where the FUCK is the Misanthropic Nemesis Album? You’re god damn distraction. The closest you come to that is some after the fact carnivore inspired shit, but between Elsa and that other bitch I have a whole novel of lyrics. I can reminisce on my hatred of those two for years! And in five years, because we eventually get back to being friends after I’m done being pist off, we laugh about that shit. Not you though. You make me want to post stupid shit on the internet about how lame you are. On that note, a Muse should make you feel inspired to create something positive, not an outlet to a negative zone. The inspiration of hating women is much better expressed on a higher level by Herr Steele, and that’s why we just sit around doing pushups eating meat and listening to Carnivore instead of doing a cover band. I‘d rather have an uninterested girlfriend that makes me feel creative even though she’s not around. Because all women are distractions. Bitches.
Strike III: “Fuck Vlad.”
No.
NO. That was your fucking coffin nail. Now, I like to support a world where nothing is sacred, however, I fail in the fact that some terribly awesome people throughout history, while not garnering respect in a sense, do not deserve disrespect and dishonor. Julius Caesar and Vlad Dracula Tepes. Vlad the Impaler transcended death with his infamy and legends, from beyond a tyrant psychotic awesome vengeful sonofabitch, to a national hero, and truckload of cool shit related him, and more movies being made about the dude than ANYONE. Even Jesus. Dracula is way the fuck cooler than Jesus. In a world of man made gods created by reverence and faith, Dracula might as well be just as potent as any god anyone could create. My love of the sonofabitch is even inked on my skin permanently. A Tattoo I had painfully done over scar tissue to boot. For your crazy bitch psycho self righteousness to say he can be trumped by some Vedic cunt no one in America gives a shit about is absurd.
“I want to write the first GOOD Vampire Novel:”
You sloppy fuck of a cunt. DRACULA you stupid bitch! That statement made me want to punch you in the face until you had no teeth. The Anne Rice novels are really good too; I just skipped the lesser content that was man kissing. But seriously, DRACULA. Also, the fact that your penmanship and technique are far below par, as well as your literary knowledge which is fucking sad because you’re GOD DAMN ENGLISH MAJOR. Go the fuck back to Psychology, Nursing, Sociology or Teaching as your major and wait at University as a cock trap for a rich husband like all the other women that bitch about woman jobs but perpetuate the system by going the fuck to school for god damn woman jobs. Do something real or GTFO if you want to bitch. I know plenty of women with good non woman jobs. Some of them are hot too. There’s also a woman with man jobs, but they’re mostly lesbians that might as well be men.
You’re a laughable insult to writers. I don’t write books because I’m not good enough. I find writing scripts music, and lyrics easier. I don’t want to shell out terrible books when I could’ve done better, and I know what I write isn’t as cool as the shit I read, so I’m waiting to go more crazy before deciding to be a writer again I guess.
For fuck’s sake, you enjoy poetry. What a fag.
We will become dust, forgotten by time. There will still be tales in some form of Vlad the Impaler around. To say “fuck him” is nauseating to me. He was a total badass without question, and I don’t want the company of anyone who thinks otherwise.
Aside from that, she compared James Bond to Conan, which is fucked up. They don’t relate to each other at all. Sure, they’re both badasses, but James Bond isn’t as deep in the subtext as Conan, who is a metaphor for Nihilism at it’s best. James Bond actually IS just pulp Fiction, sadly, When Robert E Howard painted the wall with his brains, his great work was interpreted as otherwise. John Milius’ movie adaption is also the best film ever made. I don’t even like watching James Bond Flicks because there’s no substance.
Here’s one of the crazy texts in my inbox right now. There’s almost a thousand more, but I delete them ever other day:
“When you come home that first night we can be together, unless told otherwise I would wait by the door, with a loincloth on, a collar at my throat with a long chain that leads to our bed where I remained all day tied, as Master had not given me permission to do otherwise”
Read that again and fucking laugh. That’s shit Manowar fans would jerk off to if she were actually hot.
You want to know me?
I am a fucking monster. I am very affected by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I hate people that aren’t my friends and co-workers. I’m at work all the time because I want a good career in this industry and you don’t have the gumption or dignity to believe me. Fuck off and die.
You’re blinded by an image of something I wanted to be, and you can’t see past it. You can’t see the reality that’s I’m a fuck up like everyone else, and I drink excessively to make up for a shattered future, and a broken dream from a granted wish. The righteous and honorable don’t always win. Sometimes they get trampled in their sacrifice, and become corrupted and bitter at what they wasted on someone else’s dream that never even got finished.
bored