OH MY FUCKING GOD

I was thinking about the grand scope of the universe and why it was the squirrels get the best stick in life, like an ACTUAL fucking stick, I mean, if it were an actual FUCKING STICK that’d be questionable, because then you’d see sweet old ladies screaming for their lives with bags of broken crackers, all the while a fuck ton of squirrels with oddly bloody twigs would be chasing her, and you KNOW shit’s about to go down when you see that kind of bullshit happen.

I once saw an octopus. No reason really, it was just there, and I was having the time of my life just looking at this fucking thing, and I was like, “Hey, octopus.” And the thing did say a word, because it has an ass mouth. That’s right, you heard, Octopi have ass mouths, they can be masters of talking shit, because of their ass mouths, and there’s nothing you or I can really do about it.

There’s such a thing as redundant torture, where you do something utterly inane to someone else over a large or short period of time, and they’ll finally be all, “Hey, what the fuck.” All calm like, but you know deep down they’re sad.
Or… something, I don’t fucking know.

Maybe we’re all just in a simulation and the robots are the real players here, because that’d be absolutely amazing, if ready player one wasn’t about the time space-continuum because a vacation inditing the mass roach riot of 20:14 military time, because I like fucking with people’s perception of things every now and then. It’s just a thing I do, you know how I know? Because you aren’t me, and even if you were, I’d still be the one writing this fucking thing, so you can’t stop me no matter who you are!
Yes, I ripped that from Ace venture, which is honestly my favorite movie of all time.

I don’t wonder why time traveling eggs don’t time travel, they’d be too chicken by the end of it. Ha.

Dumb jokes for smart people include:
1. My dating life.
My hair line.
The fact I more famous than a regular potato.
Every knows a regular potota. Or potato.
Fuck pototas. They’ve done nothing for humanity.

Those assholes.
This blog was brought to you by the overwhelming need to fuck around on the interenet and write some weird bullshit that’ll make you question if I’m high or not.
I am 6″5 or six foot five inches. Why does my jaw feel like a peice of toast ready to pop the fuck out of a toaster? Oh yeah, gravity. I keep forgetting that’s a thing.
Kinda like Brangolina. Or Bracheal.
Or Bennigan’s.

Cats and eyelashes are not good for your productivity.

We wake up, bright eyed, bushy tailed, ready to sit down for another productive day at work from home, and wouldn’t you know it? Sir Fluffyass McFurrytail decides to hop up on your lap and give you some love. But little do you and your workflow know about the tiny, invisible, multi pronged attack your furry four legged friend/arch nemesis has delivered unto you!
Because, like a gift from the god of irritating the fuck out of you from beyond this mortal veil, come hundreds of tiny, targeted, indiscriminate hairs, that, like any tweet from Trump, means ten fucking minutes of rubbing your god damned eyes wondering why it hurts so fucking much! Then you take care of the problem, and you feel safe, snug, why, you might even begin to work again! Hot Dog! Oh, what’s that little Timmy!? Why, it’s a random eyelash! Run little Timmy run! And like a huge clown ship of nightmares, those little fuckers get under your eye lids and decide to play “Hide and Go fuck your work day!”because you’ll be once again rubbing your damned eye and wondering just what it was in your past life you did to deserve such a hellish fate! What ancient, eldritch god did you inadvertently piss off to the point where they would command, NAY, not command, for that would belay any scent of peace and harmony! NO! DEMAND A VIRGIN SACRIFICE of the random ass eyelash that decides to fuck with you even further! And to top it off, you best fwiend in the whole woild decides to pay you another visit! Right as one irritating distraction leaves you, another hops on your lap, purrs loudly, prances around on your keyboard like a demon possessed totem about to fuck your shit up, and suddenly, before you know it, Amazon is delivering twelve pounds of Lucky Charms marshmallows, two sex dolls, a couch made of potatoes, and several calls from the FBI wondering, “WHY, just dear god why, did you order the episode of Twilight Zone where Yanni stars as a flutist taunting an empty chair with insults that seem oddly racist against the very oxygen he breathes seven hundred times!?” Then your day is FUCKED, because it’s a never ending cycle of personal torment so horrific and demented that you wonder why none of the SAW traps were just this irritating cycle of Cats, cat hair, the musical cast from cats acting out this vicious attack on your sanity from the universe itself, and your own body hair deciding NOW IS AS GREAT TIME AS ANY TO PRACTICE AT BEING INEFFECTIVE PARATROOPERS WITH THE LANDING ZONE BEING THE CENTER OF YOUR PUPIL WITH SUCH GREAT MILITARY LIKE PRECISION you begin to wonder why anything gets done at all. Then, like Bane threatening a grumpy Batman, Only when your original plans are broken and burning piles of ash, do you have your cat and eyelashes permission to work… Only for the unrelenting hell to start up again, so you give up and decide to watch Netflix, and that’s when the true douchefuckery begins.
Now you have to decide what to watch? Bitchy Bridesmaids Season 734? Because the previous 733 couldn’t possibly get any better! Assholes in Kitchens Season 7? Because nothing screams originality like someone screaming at someone else because the ovens set to 399 instead of 400 in a british accent. Idiots being Idiots to other Idiots Season 2? Every fucking reality show ever. Or that new movie about blindfolded people screaming at nothing while doing everyday tasks? Could be fun or depressing, depending on the task. Decisions decisions…. Fuck netflix, just go for a walk. Sidenote: I was originally going to talk about how weird the weathers been.

Of Mice and Mentality, or, screw that noise, I wanna watch Spongebob!

Okay, this past week has been a bit of a blur for me, so let’s start off with a topic everyone can agree to:


They’re arguing about sandwich shops. Please god, let them be arguing about sandwich shops!

so, everyone’s still bugging out about Ben Affleck being a horrible, nightmare inducing, more terrifying than a flying bottle to Justin Beiber’s head, rage terror inducing choice for the next Batman. Because if anyone is more suited to play the Dark Knight, it’s the dude who starred in Giggli… giggly… WTf the movie is.


Say it with me, “I am the night! I am justice… I… Am… Affleckman!”

So, outside of that trauma inducing choice, because you and I both know that with Affleckman cast in the new Affleckman v Supergigli Movie, there will be blood!


Sparkly, sparkly blood!

But… More subjects of conversatin’ await than just the horrid nightmare’s of Cinema, I’ve gotta talk about what the hell is going on in my own life, because Society can kiss my hairy red Haduken:


Or… Just, y’know, whatever the hell screaming nightmare this came from.

Lately, things have been super crazeh:

MY EYES! DEAR GOD, MY EYES!

Because the (Yes, let that image sink in.) semester is quickly wrapping up in more ways than one, I’ve yet to do any actual work for the class outside of hoping beyond hope that our groups presentation is good, if not better then an Avengers movie with all the worst possible actors being cast as all of the characters in the next Avengers movie… Or y’know… a My Little Po-


WHICH ONE IS THOR!? WHICH MOTHERFUCKING ONE!? IS THE MIDDLE ONE APPLEJACK!?

Not surprisingly, me finding my blogging spirit again has been a pretty awesome experience, getting in touch with my inner Internet fueled Rage Demon has given me a bit of a new view point on everything, from class schedules, dating, avoiding trouble, and of course, venting whatever pent up frustratins I have against whatever is ticking me off at the moment. which, considering all possibilities, I’ve been pretty calm in regards to socializing, as well as just getting the presentation done.

However, there are a few gripes I’ve got to take care of-


I-I-I… My inner child is screaming bloody murder and cookies. Yes, that’s a real recipe.

However, thanks to previously mentioned Prayer Circle, things are looking up, mostly because I’ve just been not looking for dates/girlfriends/Slash Cosplayers:

It’s a TRAP, I mean, Chimichanga!

but we’ll see how everything starts to pan out. I need to get my classes organized for next semeser, and I’m actually looking forward to it. My folks are slowly hinting that I need to get a steady paycheck going, and for the most part I agree. Though the author gig is awesome…


I sometimes need to hit the writers block with a Hammer and scream, “Run, damn it!!! Just run away!”

Anyways, I feel I’ve got things in the bag now, though I’m feeling a little like-


AAAUUUUGH, MY EYES!


MAKE THE BLEEDING STOP! MAKE IT STOP, FOR GOD’S SAKE!


WHY DOES THIS NOT HELP ANYTHING!?

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