February 2012
36 posts
Next I think I wanna get a tattoo of a handgun above my tailbone so that when I wear underwear it looks like I’m concealing a weapon beneath my boxer-briefs. I once saw a stripper at the ‘shoe with one of those and it looked really hot on him.
“Oh, my sweet renegade, I bring a tune on a silver plate, one final serenade, for...”
– Daan
Why the fuck do we not have Skittles in the house! This is worse than the Holocaust!
I’ve become aware in the last month or so that when I wake up late and don’t take my pills in the morning like I’m supposed to, I get the shakes like I’m tweaking and they won’t go away until I pop a few Xanax. I feel like a bundle of nerves that are constantly being sent signals that tell me, “This is how it feels to be palsied. How do you like it?”
...
How awesome would it be if I could get prescribed an eight ball of cocaine once a week? I could be fine with that. It’s not like I’m a junkie or something.
My brain is definitely dying. Slowly, but by no means painfully.
Alas, I fear I’ve fallen in love with the feeling of when your motor skills become impaired and it takes you longer than normal to connect the dots in your mind.
It’s a bitch when I have to retrace my steps, though.
It’s like trying to revisit that time I was raped when I was six.
After Insane Clown Posse came out as Christians I lost the non-existant respect I had for them. I hate when I think about how easily “Tilt-A-Whirl” could be interpreted as a song about what happens to sinners… and it’s also not such a bad song.
Fuck.
PS: “Everyone knows the best bands are affiliated with Satan.”
Why the fuck do these aviator Ray-Bans always end up hurting the back of my ears after a few hours of wearing ‘em? How am I suppose to know what sunglasses are the ideal sunglasses to be worn 24-hrs a day?
Oh, I told you guys that I’ve been channeling and tweaking around with Al Jorgensen and Chris Connelly’s image in the late 80s for the last few weeks, right?
I’m gonna...
I’m currently listening (and singing along) to a 12” mix of “Little Lies” as I watch The Human Centipede 2 on mute, this is the kinda person I am.
Up next in the mix of most-played tracks is “Liquid Swords”.
Remember when Clay Aiken kept saying he was straight and it was his Southern accent and affectations that people may have been misconstruing as “gay”? Then Jabba the Rosie inadvertently outed him on The View when she said Kelly Rippa was a hateful homophobic monster when during a Regis and Kelly taping Aiken cupped Rippa’s mouth in order to jokingly shut her up, to which Rippa...
Wait a minute, you’re telling me the combination of Xanax, red wine and a bathtub has the potential to be lethal?! It’s a good thing I don’t eat Valium.
Come to think of it, I can’t say I ever have.
Now to create a cocktail called The Whitney. I think it will quickly catch on.
It’s so freaking awesome when people who owe you a large sum of money suddenly are too busy to answer your phone calls.
Never trust a big butt and a smile.
Just because I know you in person—whether it be through a friend-of-a-friend, your dating one of my friends or maybe you and I even fucked a few times—that doesn’t necessarily mean I wanna be your “friend” on Facebook.
No, I don’t think I’m being a prick by saying that. Truth is, not many people like what I have to say and that’s understandable. Brilliant and...
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! I’M ABOUT TO GO GET HUMAN CENTIPEDE 2 ON BLU-RAY!! I don’t own the first one—or ever intend to, because it actually did suck—but the second one is brilliant. Ever single frame is a piece of art and should be respected as such. People who didn’t like it are fucking stupid. You can’t compare a movie like The Human Centipede to a movie like Halloween....
Just because I’m stoned several hours every day doesn’t necessarily mean I’m a “pothead”.
Those who say they are, rarely are.
There’s this big fat lesbian I know from back when I was trying to be a club kid [over half a decade ago] that I know for a fact hates me because many gays have confirmed that she is fully aware of my disdain for big fat lesbians.
It’s funny that she’s so fucking fake and phony ‘cause whenever I run into her I make idle chit-chat, knowing my very presence annoys her....
Tom Hardy’s pussylips FTW.
I could really use a bottle of red wine and a warm bubble bath right now. Oh, and I wanna gobble up a bunch of Xanax before that.
I love that my dealer has three fucking cellphones with three different numbers and still can’t manage to make it anywhere on time.
I’m never gonna grow up. Never.
I’m about to fucking KILL MYSELF because I decided it wouldn’t be so bad to cover a friend’s pizzeria shift from five to 11.
Is this what it’s like to “earn a living”? Having to deal with fat-fuck peons and feeble-minded delivery drivers?
FUCK THAT SHIT.
I’m a liar. I’m a thief. I’m a con artist. I’m above all of you.
I get what I...
I don’t wanna die tonight, but paradoxically, I can’t live without you.
I wouldn’t ever let my daughter date a black guy. I’m serious, even if he were light-skinned.
Bill tells me I’m never gonna die of an overdose. I wonder what role he will play in my life.
I love doing coke ‘til I can’t do it anymore. I mean, to the point where I have to puke up the booze and coke lest I die.
I truly enjoy tempting fate.
I like having trouble breathing.
I like the sweating.
I love the confidence.
I love being reminded that I’m alive.
I don’t even mind a headache if there’s good music playing in the background.
Or if I have...
I may be good in small doses, but I’d rather flood your world.