There comes a point where coffee tastes bad.

This has nothing to do with that, but it has something to do with taste.
Let’s get something out of the way here, I’ve not had sex in nearly two years.
Yes, this might be the thing we’re talking about here, my lack of penis in vagina activity.
Nope, no regrets.
I’m not going to go off, fuck it, yes I am, because in my self love journey, I’ve been to some strange as fuck place, and… I dunno how I feel about the whole thing.
The sex part, when I was having it regularly, was amazing? I dunno. I only ever finished once, and that took an amazing amount of time, and a lot of focus.
Yes, I’m an easily distracted sex machine.
No, you can’t plug your phone in my ass to charge it.
Yes, I’m very well aware that’s a kind of fetish.
No, I do no want to receive “The Power of Zues” through my ass.
No, I’m not into that kind of thing.
Look, point being, I need to get laid, but in this day and age where any attempt to either get some or get love is a frightening ordeal, because, at any point point, either you or that one super bitchy girlfriend of yours can just up and claim I’m harassing you. The very moment I detect something off, that’s it, I’m cutting myself off from talking to you, and will only engage if absolutely needed.
Now, I know how to treat women with respect, I know how to behave myself, and would much rather things develop organically as opposed to, “Well, time to fuck and see what happens.” Being a guy now a days is… to be honest, a confusing experience in everyway possible.

The basis of the Metoo movement is to make sexual assaulters pay dearly for their crimes against whatever gender their creepy little mitts are wriggling towards. That’s it, and then for a long while, it seemed like every guy was fair game, and men bounded through the tall grass like majestic walruses, “OORPH”ing their way towards a better and brighter future, only to be stopped in t heir tracks by a false claim of grabbin’ some boob.
And trust me, I get it, I truly do, Y’all have put up with enough of guys weird bullshit from the dawn of time, and the damn finally burst, and men were like, “Oh…. Well fuck.”
Now that the tables have turned, so is the dating scene steps, where it’s usually the women who have to initiate Ye Ol’ Dating Ritual.

Which, hey, more power to you.
It’s just a terrifying, scary, nightmarish, and dick shriveling level of anxiety that gets built up into the core of men’s souls wondering whether or not they should go ahead and make a move on Susie Sunshine or be left in the cold icy grip of the Night King, otherwise known as whacking off.
And let’s talk about that for a second, really. Because now there’s a law in Texas, about to pass, that states that men are legally not allowed to whack off, on the premise that it’s killing unconceived children. So, our physiological need to expel built up waste is now under attack in Texas.
Because, really, that’s all that is if it’s not being used to make babies, waste.  Like, really?

I get it, the reproductive rights of women in terms of abortion has been a hotbed of WTF for a long time, with them main question of the debate being, “When does life begin? At the moment of conception, or the moment of birth?”

Well, my answer is this: Until the heart fully develops and starts pumping and the brain develops to the point where the growth stops being a growth and starts being a little human, that exact moment is when life begins. Of course, I have no authority over what women do with their bodies, I can only give my thoughts on the matter and leave it at that.

Anyways, getting back to what I was talking about, dating…. Actually, it’s around 2:27 and I’ve got to get ready for the day.

Fuck thee hard, with a rotating cactus Book of Faces!

First off, let’s get one thing straight:
Fuck Facebook, that’s all.
I mean, yeah, there’s more to it than that, and believe me when I say that I am one cynical son of a bitch when it comes to things to get mad at.
Seriously, I pitched an epic level bitch fit about an overblown beauty competition that seeks to first exploit women for their looks, than subvert the beauty pageant for and IQ quiz, as if women need to prove that they’re intelligent. They are, stop making them look like overstuffed tit fests you fucking sexist fucks.
I mean, yeah, I could be blowing that WAY out of proportion, but by todays standards, that shit was tame compared to what I would’ve put eight years back, and believe me, I was filled with fire and fury like the world would never have believed.
I was also filled with the idiotic notion that people would love my blogging skills despite overwhelming proof the only reason they ever read beyond the second word was to see how far into the post itself they could get before deciding, “Nah, fuck it, UNREADABLE GARBAGE!”
Because I did not edit worth a DAMN Back then.
I learned the hard way.
Like the Archbishop in Australia learned?

I mean, holy fuck. no worries, I’ll get back to the whole “FACEBOOK BE DOWN, EVERYBODY POST ELMO MEMES!”  shit in a second, I just want to talk about this idiot. He fucked two kids because he caught them stealing from the church, and these little guys were just minding their own damned business.
Anyways, legend has it that the guy that shit under wraps for DECADES before his own guilt ate at him to the point where he just up and turned himself in.
Whoa, and what the utter fuck?
I mean, thank god he turned himself in, but the shit storm he threw into the air among the cluster fuck sized hurrican of WTF the Catholic church is already going through?
Jesus…

Anyways, back to the point of this, fuck Facebook for being down even though I don’t really give a shit. Yes, there arep eople out there that get EVERYTHING from FB, and good for them, really… show’s something positive about the platform that ultimately means people are going to freak out every time the platforms down for a few hours to half a day.
I mean, where else am I going to see crappy adverts for games I already don’t give a shit about?
”OH MY GOD, THEY WERE RIGHT, THE GAME SO AWESOME, FACEBOOK THOUGHT IT WAS A CONSERVATIVE POST SO HARDCORE, FACEBOOK TOOK ITSELF DOWN!”  Wait… no, that doesn’t strike the right chord here.
”OMG, FACEBOOK IS NAUGHTY, DON’T LET YOUR GIRLFRIEND CATCH YOU PLAYING WITH IT, AND YOURSELF!” Nope, still not right.
”FACEBOOK WENT AND FUCKED ITSELF OFF THE INTERNET!”
Perfect.
Or, is it? I can never really tell.
I mean, really, to me, Facebook is the thing that I HAVE to keep an account on, not because I need to, but because it connects me to my fam, my friends, and my potential dates that never quite get to the actual date part. Which is, at the moment, how I prefer it.
But, for those who’ve gone the “MUST WORSHIP THINE BOOK OF FACES, OUR SOUL FOR BAD PAY TO WAIT TO PLAY GAMES!”
It’s almost as if Le Zuckerberg is testing out a theory, so he brought FB offline just to see what would happen, and holy shit, he brought out the popcorn  and had himself a marathon as people took to twitter to shit all over the website as if it were their drug of choice and their dealer was a no show.
Fucking beautiful.
Though, I could be wrong, I mean, I’ve been wrong about things before, so it wouldn’t surprise me if the given reason were that FB is going through the piecemeal process of updating its platform on a massive scale to combat misinformation campaigns launched by Trump supporters to further influence the 2020 campaign.
Now, don’t get me wrong OR right, there’s a chance we might have a second Trump Term, but then again, we might not… Like, really. I’m almost excited at the prospect of how  this election cycle is going to play out… Still, with FB being down, which might be a sign of the times, that the unyielding might of the platform, is gone, creates a vacuum.

Coffee Thoughts in the morning!

God I fucking love coffee!

Seriously, nothing more satisfying in the mornings then hcocking down some random shit I no longer care about writing.

Well, not that topic anymore, I don’t write these morning blogs just to be all philosophical and shit, I write them to just fucking say what’s on my mind, and there’s not really much on my mind, no, really!

I used to try and make sense of the world, try to unlock it’s various dick shaped puzzles, and try to be something more than my mind actually was:

Infinite confuckled about everything stupid and trying to be more intelligent than a methed out gerbil being stupid funny on a facebook live of a Captain Hook porn parody where no one’s having fun, and everything just seems fucked.

More or less, I’m sure the clown in the corner, sadly jacking it to a rendition of “hurt me more” by the Sugarpops and Daddy6969 is truly just wonderful.

Outside of that, I drink coffee and slap my face against the keyboard because i need to more freeform with my thoughts, try not to bog em down with the heavier shit, because that’s what the fuck I was doing for a long fucking time, you know?

Understand the mysteries of the universe, logic it all out.

There’s nothing to logic out, it’s all impulse!All fuck this, blow up that, make fun of this person, why?

What’s the point?

Aren’t we fucked enough already without that added pressure of the constant shit talking?

Maybe we just need to shut our minds down for a bit and relax, not worry about what the others are doing as Jack and beanstalk simply refers to the act of getting a blowjob from a snaggle toothed, broken jawed hooker during an earthquake on a rickety roller coaster.

Or maybe it’s something more which I don’t have the mental patience to deal with?

I dunno…

I just do not know.

I’ve spent so much of my life looking at a keyboard that it’s really the one constant thing, more constant than staring at a screen for one reason or another.

Although it does seem a bit more fun than backwards fisting a zombie in the ass.

Maybe?

Yeah definitely don’t want to think about reverse fisting anything that’s decomposing.

Ha… You’re thinking of it aren’t you?

LMAO!

that’s the thing I love about coffee thoughts, you can just say whatever’s on yer mind and not really have to worry about a fucking thing!

It’s a freeing feeling, something I’ve continually missed as i’ve plugged away at this project or that project, wondering when and if I’d get back to the one thing that really matters, randomly blogging about nothing at all, or making some sort of sense to the five people that actually read this thing, all over the world…

Did you know I used to be read all over the world?

Seriously, that shit was insane, yeah, I used to talk mad shit about people over at VVC back when there was shit talking to be done, but I was fucked read all over the place.

Sometimes for good reasons, other times for bad, sometimes for reasons that  seemed a bit obtuse, no, no intelligent words.

BAD BRAIN, BAD FUCKING BRAIN!

Point being, I guess no matter what I do, I’m going to have some kind of draw, some kind of gravitational pull, even if I don’t think I have one. After all, hits are hits, regardless of how many times or how many minutes people read or watch. not that i’m complaining, it’s just a natural fact of life that now a days, if you’re aren’t shit talking someone, you’re not a part of the cool crowd, though to be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of the cool crowd?

Maybe?

I’m not really sure anymore, everything’s a bit fuzzy in the memory, sometimes I get flashes of the person I used to be in my twenties, and I look back at the things I wanted to accomplish, and look upon my many failings, and see that there is a veritable graveyard of them. But I can’t give up!

Not giving up!

Ever since I tried to hang myself, I’ve come to the realization that my life, my efforts, my everything really, is more important than just some one off project that for one reason or another needs to be slapped together in the form of a blog or something to make others happy.

It’s a way of keeping myself motivated for the future, to punch that sun right in the fucking dick!

To proclaim to the world that all should HAIL BILL FUCKING WATSON!

To make the most badass shoutout videos in the world and keep people smiling.

I lost the goal of that in the course of chasing high hit counts and wanting people to subscribe to me.

I lost that point, maybe that’s why my follower count hasn’t risen or fallen? Maybe that’s why I’m struggling to get anymore traction?

Or ,maybe I just secretly gave up the rat race once I figured out the truth of the matter, that no matter what I try, there’s always going to be someone to shit on my parade.

So I need to shit on theirs first, because of course that’s going to be a thing, right?

I create because it’s what I’m excellent at, I’m godlike when it comes to creating things.

the question is, how do I turn that creation into profit, more importantly, how did I go from using all of my finger to only using five? that shit confused the hell out of me.

Is it to match my internal voice when it comes to… thinking?

I dunno, don’t care, batshit crazy thought time:

So a penguin with a machete and a tiny top hat went on a tiny adorable rampage at a library and that shit went sideways with the chihuahua FBI showed up and was all “BARK BARK MOTHERFUCKER!”

I KEEP FORGETTING THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG, TO NOT MAKE SENSE, TO HAVE FREE FLOWING THOUGHT IN A WAY THAT’S NEITHER CONSTRICTING NOR CAUSES ME TO PAUSE, LIKE AN ECLECTIC COLLECTOR OF LECTURES. HA! I DID A THING THAT MADE ME SMILE ON THE INSIDE.

PEOPLE SAY I NEED TO SMILE MORE, WHY? WHAT’S THE POINT? WHAT AM I SMILING AT?

THE SUN?

THAT SHIT’S BEEN THERE FOR TRILLIONS OF YEARS, AND NO AMOUNT OF SMILING IS GOING TO CHANGE THAT.

OH, SHIT, I’VE HAD CAPS LOCK ON THIS ENTIRE TIME.

There we go, that’s going to read very weird, people are going to be like “Why is he yelling about smiling at the sun?”

Puppies, I don’t know, that’s just the word I was focused on when my fingers hit the keyboard, and now this blog is getting more metaphysical than I’d actually like. I need to practice using more than just two fingers- SHUT THE METAMINDFUCKING PHYSICAL BULLSHIT DOWN!

There we go, hate it when that happens, because than I’m just focused on the random bullshit that’s going on, and you see what’s ACTUALLY going on instead of enjoying a nice nonsensical blog about shit that no longer matters ten minutes down the road as you focus on which Forte Nite skin to use to do the same thing over and over and over and over again. Because really, that’s all gaming really is, and maybe I’m over extending my reach as John Wick 3 is just about John Wick going on a murder rampage because someone took his plate of nachos at golden Corral, and john’s had enough of that shit.

The movie will be a veritable and verifiable week long in running time. And it will be just millions of senior citizens rushing John in an attempt to fuck with death itself.

Wow, that’s on my mind heavily, maybe it’s something more, or something less.? I need to go to the mental gym more often and work on the mental gymnastics required to keep this train of thought going?

Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t give a fuck anymore about trying to make sense, nope, old topic, moving forward, moving on!

I like writing songs, it’s a pretty fun experience, to hear the flow of the music as you slap a ham sandwich against the way and make fart noises and than you think, well this isn’t making music, just making a mess.

I can’t stop the tears…

I’m so tired of it all… So tired of the chase, the constant failure. The level of growing regret, so tired of it… I’m sick of choosing the harder path because of some stupid morale code that tells me the harder way is better, and why is that? Why is the harder way better? Through hard work comes regard? Spare me… spare the stupid rhetoric. spare the mercy or the pity, I’m jut so damned tired. worst of all, I can’t stop the tears that never flow… I wish for the love of god that I could cheer myself up right now, that I could just snap out of it.

I had a great date tonight with my long time friend. I’ve always held an interest for her, something in which the end goal might be unattainable or near impossible to accomplish, but that again, this is nothing new to me. I’m used to this kind of thing. but than again, being 22 years old, she has more important things to worry about that my hurt feelings. Because I’m afraid to speak my mind, to let her know that sometimes she says stuff that’s mind numbing and stupid. I can only respond in weird ways that would make her laugh. I can’t stop the tears that never come. And they never do, just something I’ve gotten used to… I work so hard, and for so long without a girlfriend, without a relationship, constantly tell myself that they aren’t worth the time or distraction… And here I am, perusing yet another unattainable goal. I have no fucking clue how close or far away I am to boyfriend status, and it’s getting to the point where I’d rather just say fuck this bullshit and be alone for the rest of my life.

Than again, its just my panic response, that if I have a good thing, soon to follow must be a bad thing to even it out and reset the madness…

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