cigarette

IM from Erin (see 10 April):

"yeah, so boys. . . i don't understand them. you're with them literally everyday for hours, and the hours not with them on IM or the phone. . . they make constant eye contact and watch you all the time . . .they talk about having you go home with them for the weekend. . . they take you out for drinks, coffee, ice cream, etc. . .they say that they think you should be dating in a tone of voice where they don't think you can hear them. . . . play hard to get and always talking about getting into girls' pants. . .you sleep over, share a bed and they make all these comments, but nothing happens. . . nothing at all. . ..no sense. .. i dont understand . . . ."

To which I would like to answer, "FUCK YOU. You had your fucking chance with me. You still have a goddamned chance. I don't want to fucking hear it. I'm no longer jealous. I'm just angry. So take your boy problems and shove them up your ass. You're the one who just dumped someone for getting too fresh too fast. So piss off."

Of course, I said none of that because none of it matters.

Jesus, I'm bitter about women these days. Why is it I only have things to say when I'm bitter at girls? In the last month, four girls have methodically destroyed all of my sense of self-worth. Beckett feels my pain. Crazy motherfucker.

And another thing.

That fucked up nipple picture in the Nipples topic. That was fucked up. That'll haunt me for a long fucking time. That was worse than Goatse and the ass-geyser. Not by much, but still worse. At least the ass-geyser wasn't CREEPY AS FUCK, just gross. Fuck you and fuck your ass-geyser and maggoty-ass nipples. Motherfuckers act like they forgot about Dre.

And one more thing, too. I'm sick of the whining. There's a fine line between whining and bitching. That guy from The Postal Service is a whiny little shit. So's the guy from Bright Eyes, but not when he's in Desaparacidos. Every punk video has whiners. Those bastards with the violin (WHAT THE FUCK!?!) and those bastards that got Flava Flav in their video (WHAT THE FUCKITY FUCK?!?!?!!!) are almost as bad as that Postal Service guy. Almost. Someone needs to send him and Dido and David Gray packing to the land where singer-songwriters are supposed to croon over pansy-ass electronic music:

England.

I'm about to have Tom Waits and Alec Empire eat all those whiny bastards. You know what Tom Waits would do if he came across the guy from The Postal Service? He would finish his cigarette, put it out in the beer of the guy sitting next to him, knock back the rest of his whiskey, knock back the beer he just put his cigarette out in (the one belonging to the guy sitting next to him) and then he would eat the guy from the Postal Service. Then he would eat the guy whose beer with the cigarette in it he just drank. Just for good measure.

P.S. I really am nice. Really. Just a little bitter lately.