geometricalfuck

This is what my lack of creativity has spawned.

GUILTY FUCKING PLEASURES. alpha-numeric, and shit. Three letters a day until I reach Z.

ANAL WIPES. You know! those times when you've already taken a shower in the morning but really have to poo an hour later. These, commonly confused with baby wipes, make the "I just showered, and now I have mud-butt!" flaw obsolete. With the lightly scented, soft towel you can shower your ass in one swipe and flush the evidence away.

BOSS HOG. This rotund fellow who followed Bo and Luke around (Dukes of Hazzard, for you youngins') has played a great part on the socialization of us all. Cops are no longer seen as authoritative figures worthy of admiration, but rather people payed with our tax dollars to stalk, harrass, and eat donuts around us. Don't be fooled! In order to enter the force you must do copious amounts of sit-ups and push-ups, but then you're homefree. Soon enough, they orgasm while writing out a ticket for an unbuckled driver.

"CUNT," THE TERM. Although this lonely word has become equivalent to nails on a chalkboard, it's so fucking fun to say. It just has a caustic sound which can interrupt a last rites passage recited from the lips of your local priest. The English are willing and able to let it slip every other minute, but us Americans are damned from such liberties. Although I've only used the term once in it's literal meaning, it came off working quite well. Three years ago I found out my girlfriend was cheating, so I packed all her shit up into a knapsack, drove to her parents house, unloaded it on the lawn, and screamed (it was the summer time, so windows were opened), "Here's your fucking shit, you...you...CUNT!"
Sure...we dated off and on for another 6 months, but my disgustedness was exemplified using a four letter word hardly heard or said. Say it. You'll feel liberated.

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Reasons why I wish I was a Suicide Girl

1. If I was a naked female, chances are I'd receive a brand new pair of Roller Blades from some lonely weirdo across country. In the next life, I'm going to be a whore. I can feel it.

2. People would masturbate to me.

3. I'd probably make my significant other jealous.

4. I wouldn't seem creepy when commenting about someone being intelligent and beautiful. It might even come across as sincere! (thank you sexual predators for ruining any penis validity in this world, fags!)

5. I'd get one of those hot tattoos on the back of my thighs (the lines which look like panty hose, or something).

6. I'd probably get a lot of free drinks and flattering phone calls.

7. Other modeling oppurtunities.

8. Life would be far more interesting.

9. I'd get a cute pair of panties and undoubtedly show them at restaurants via open skirt and open legs.

10. I'd get a cool alias like "snowball," "Madame Murder," "Laser Beam," or something ultra trendy like that.



That's it. I still love the shit out of this website. Also, it proves to my coworkers I'm not gay, regardless of some of the shit that exits my mouth.