Tuesday, November 26, 2013

I'm the Official Sentry of the Isle of Misfit Toys

"People ask me that all the time, if I, 'believe in love.' I don't think that's what they mean. Love is just a feeling, it's just a word that describes a...ugh...cognitive...process, essentially. Of course I believe in it....when people say they don't believe in it...I don't think that's what they mean either...I think they mean they can't...sense it, or they can't do it, they can't make it happen, but that's not the same thing. People who say they don't believe in love...it's like some sort of ego defensive, denial bullshit. It's like a guy who can't make a girl cum so he says, 'She can't cum because orgasms don't exist.' Like, why is it that, you know, when someone says they don't believe in love, it's like..., oh, they're just self obsessed and sexxee, you know, they're just 'jaded' and too dark to care, you know? Would you say that about a guy who said he couldn't make someone cum because people can't cum? (LOL) No...no, you'd feel embarrassed as fuck for that person. You would think that person was, like, a ridiculous, sad, deluded motherfucker, you know? When someone says they don't believe in love, I wanna fuckin' vomit. When people ask that, I think they really mean something like, do you believe there's someone out there that's 'made for you' and like, do you believe that love can transform you from a piece of shit into some other thing.... Of course I believe in that. What the fuck else is there to even believe in? I really mean that. Like what the fuck else is going to 'fulfill' you? Like, oh, no, I don't wanna fall in love, cause I'm CRAZY about snorting coke with dead hearted strangers, and being the tissue in someone's garbage, and the stain on someone's fucking mattress. I've just GOT to be the aging person at the after party, and lord knows I need to collect a few more choke bruises, because that's what makes me interesting, you know? What a fucking delight! Surely that's a better alternative. Surely that will be enough to keep  me from going down on a revolver."



"I sleep in the bathtub sometimes. Sometimes I just, 'freak out.' It could be anything. It could be something 'serious' or it could just be that I heard someone refer to themselves as 'polyamorous' or, like, someone said it would be 'hot' if I gave them a blowjob while they play Call of Duty, or, you know, I just can't stop thinking about every terrible thing I've ever done, or staring at my haggard aging face, and I'll just hyperventilate. I'll just cry and hyperventilate, and in an attempt to stop myself from crying and hyperventilating I'll injure myself in some gruesome manner, and then I'll eat a lot of medication and chug a lot of Kettle One, and drag a blanket into the bathtub and cover my head with it, in the dark , and I'll pretend I'm in the ground cause I'm already dead, and that's the most soothing thing. That's the closest thing to not existing."



"I just think about it like...I think about people like a Where's Waldo picture. You're just staring at this fucking...sea of shit trash, and you're always looking for this one person that's something other than shit trash, and sometimes you think you found the person, and you get really excited, but it turns out it's just one of those assholes that's there to 'trick' you, you know, one of those assholes that's mimicking what you're looking for, like, one of those motherfuckers that's wearing a red and white scarf or something, you know?"



"I care about shit. I care about shit and I feel shit, but why the fuck would I share that with anyone? People are disgusting. People are just dying to dig their lunch hooks into your fucking...'self,' you know, and mine it for as much content as they can grapple away. You just, you see people later, and you see the 'brand' they've created for themselves, and sometimes it's so full of you. Like, they're out there taking your feels and your cares, the shit that really means something to you, and they're using it to pass themselves off as...sincere. Using it to make it seem like there's something other than shit where their soul should be, and like their heart isn't litter in a fucking gutter. I don't want anyone to know me. I want to keep all that stuff locked up somewhere where no one can ruin it. And maybe I'll be alone forever. Maybe I'll drink myself to death and cats will eat my face off as my body rots undiscovered for months, but that's a less devastating thing maybe, cause...I don't know. Cause fuck everybody."




  1. I was just joking. Geez.

  2. I'm not. I'm DEAD srs. I ttly hanged myself. I'm typing this from my ghost cell, this is a picture of it:

    You can call it by following the instructions on this website:



  3. The sad/funny part about your comment is the phone in the picture is actually nicer than the one I have.

    Hey, don't kill yourself. Think of all the conversations about sitcoms you'll be missing.

  4. I feel like no one has ever talked to me about a sitcom in my life, and then, in the days following this exchange, like, five people talked to me about sitcoms. I refer to these sorts of coincidences as "sci fi."

  5. It wasn't a coincidence. I'm a fucking augur.

  6. Augur is seriously one of my favorite words. There just aren't enough opportunities to use it. Good on you.