I’ve got nothing except love.

For some reason I always get weird when talking about love, not in the sense that it becomes perverted self inflation of how ginormous my dick is, because… that would be a gross use of power, also, physiologically, every large dicked man has a constant fear of having a heart attack caused by getting aroused, look it up, straight up fact.
Speaking of big dicks, the dude with the largest dong measures in at two fucking feet.
My question:
Does he go to Hentai cons? because people would fucking love that shit.

Anyways, today is one of the random, “Meh, I knock one out” days, I’m not active enough to garner new followers, but just active enough to keep the ones I have, and honestly, I don’t check the numbers anymore. Why? I don’t care about them, if I continually check the numbers to see how I’m doing, then I fuck myself with anxiety, and I don’t need that shit in my life again.
I get it now, when people say they turn off social media and what not, they try not to focus too much on it, because that’s just how shit is, you live, you learn, you get excited about nothing in particular, and then you move the fuck on.
I wish for the love of god it were that easy with me.
I kind of hate all my socials with a average sized dick passion. Yes, we’re floating back to that shit, because why the fuck not?
Anyways, to make matters interesting, works been going good, this MET is kicking my ass something fierce, but I’m sticking with it, with the knowledge and passion knowing that sometime in October, I’ll get converted, and with any luck, won’t have a ride situation that’s not going to fuck me out of 600 fucking dollars a fucking month just to get two and from work.
Look, I get it, you got out before they got you out, and you’ve got bills and shit to take care of, but how the fuck come I’ve got to be the one to do that, when clearly, you’ve got the scratch to do that on your own. Fuck, if I’m paying you 600 a month for rides to work and back, that I might as well move in with you, because that right the fuck there is rent levels of money and Jesus fucking Christ.
But at the same time, they’re my friend, and “Do the right thing” is ringing in my head. But momma didn’t raise no sucker, and I know when I’m getting fucked over, friendship or not.
And even when they get back in, it’s still gonna cost me 200 a week to get a ride with them, even when they’ve got their own money coming back in? Citing, gas, oil change, tires, blah blah blah when the fuck did I become responsible for MORE then just gas? Yes, the wear and tear and all that, but at the same time, at the end of each month, after taxes, rent, and gas, I’m essentially getting paid HALF of what everyone else’s is getting to take home. And I’m back to 900 a month instead of 2200 a month, so this is my main fucking gripe right there.

Yeah, we’re friends through thick and thin, but the moment you’re back at work is the moment I’m finding a better ride situation.

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.

I repeat. Stupid Teens piss me off.

There’s this twitter group chat I was pulled into that I wanted nothing to do with. Called The Spooky jungle 2. Three Teens, all 17, looking at me like I was a god damned hero. Well, I’m an adult, and I’m all the fucking wiser, turned out, all their praise and ‘Yay! You’re you!’ was just to get a rise out of me, just calling me babe was a fucked up way of trying to get me pissed at them. Well, ya know what? I didn’t care, I was focused on getting books written and published and I’m not the same idiot I was way back when, before I tried getting into the Navy. I’m smarter, busier, chiller. And these kids were doing their damnedest to try and piss me off, but ya know what?

I didn’t let em. there was this one idiot, I forget his name, he was a forgettable piece of shit, and mind you, all of this took place on Twitter. I hate stupid people, and more importantly, I really fucking hate stupid teens that end up pissing me off for one reason or another. You want to know why? Especially on the internet, I had spent a good couple of hours helping these little fucking idiots out with all their stupid drama and problems and how do they thank me?

They start hammering on me like I’m just some dumb ass, calling me a fuckin’ meme, like that’s supposed hurt my fucking feelings? Bitches, I’m a motherfucking Living Meme, you calling me a meme is like saying the blue shit above our fuckin’ heads is called a sky!

No fucking shit I’m a meme, ya don’t think I know that? They kept calling me their sugar daddy, which I wanted no fucking part of and to be honest, their YouTube channel was fucking shit anyways. According to them, the only way to get anywhere in life is to be an annoying shit bag filled with dicks, or at least that’s their approximation of it anyways. These motherfuckers kept pinging me on twitter like I was their lord and savior, I’m sorry.

No, No I am fucking not. If anything I’m an easily irritated man who put up with their stupid BS because hey, they called me friend! Boohoo fucking them. So, after they get all weepy eyed because I ain’t playing their game, after I gut whatever piss and shit filled pants drama they were going after, after all I fucking do for them, they turn out to be just regular fucking shit bag teens, like I said, there are smart, good teens that know their asses from a hole in the ground and then there are the fucking assholes doing the tide pod challenge as if their Social Standing on Instasmackedface needed it. These little fuckheads, were exactly the second category.

Look, I can understand wanting to get to know me, that’s cool and all, but when you go and turn ass hurt over me not talking to you over the course of a few days, that’s when I know your parents didn’t smack ya hard enough when you did something stupid in their presence.

I ain’t going soft here, if anything, I’m still very much pissed, parents need to control these little shit bags on tighter leashes and prevent this kind of bullshit from happening. I’m not going to go back to being friendly after you spend an entire four hours pinging a group chat on twitter calling me a fuck head because I’m not playing the role you assigned me ya stupid club penguin playing piece of shit!

I honestly can’t stand that type of needling shithead, I really can’t! so what? I’m not doing shout out videos for anyone anymore, but you know what? I’m a fucking human being with feelings, and if the underdeveloped logic center of your tiny, fucking, idiotic brain can’t handle the fact that I’ve got better shit to do than heed to the whiny, bitchy, ignorant, crying pants shitting that you and your stupid fucking idiot teen friends on twitter are currently crying about, so the fuck what?

Boo fucking hoo, Kim kardashian liked a photo of a former friend of yours, but didn’t like your own!? OH THE FUCKING WORLD IS ENDING BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T GET YOUR WAY! Well, lemme call Dr. Fucking Phil and we can have ourselves a fucking pow wow and get all touchy feelly with whatever Hot Topic based emo bullshit you’re going through!

Fucking ay… These stupid fucking teenagers… Yeah, I could rip on Millenia’s, but why bother? Every stupid idiot trend they set, they’re paving the way for the future. But when 16 year old Becky Whogivesafuck from Idontgiveashit creates a new design for earbuds!? OH MY GOWD, LEMME SNAPCHAT THE SHIT OUT OF THAT FUCKING NEWS BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT, THAT’S GOING TO MAKE THE FUCKING HEADLINES FOR GOOD DAY LA OR WHATEVER THE SHIT NEWS PROGRAM currently has a case of the fucking happy feelly get #metoo’d right in the face!

I’m not sorry at all. I’m very much still ticked about the whole entire situation and while I can understand the irony of me bitching about stupid teens on the internet being stupid fucking teens, there’s a line I usually draw in the sand, a huge line. I don’t care for the idiotic memes, I don’t care for the reckless idiocy, I don’t fucking care about whatever fucking beef is being had by whatever two music idols that can’t fucking sing without a fucking iphone attached to whichever of a thousand genders is going down I don’t fucking care about any of it.

My thing is this, you treat me nice, I treat you nice. We’re friends till you start being a shit heel towards me. “Look at your YouTube channel!” What about my YouTube channel? Are you going to point out anything specific or are you going to leave the insult half finished like whatever stupid fucking idiocy is running through your heads at the moment!?

I long suspect that no. Teens today think that a question is an insult. They think that eye rolls are insults. They think that asking questions, regular questions, or telling you to look at something, is a fucking insult. It is not. It’s just a fucking question or a direction to look at something, that’s pretty much all it fucking is! You see the Kardashiwhogivesashits point at the camera man going, “Ugh, look at your ankles, you’ve got weird ankles!” Well, I wouldn’t put it past them to try something stupid like that. Because in the age is fuck headed ass monkeys, there are no bigger fuck headed ass monkeys like some of the teens or young adults on twitter i get to put up with.

Another great example is when I tweet something that i believe in, and then you have a fucker that constantly, at every possible moment in fucking time, decides to reply with some stupid shit! Example:

@MorganGavin

Today is going well!

Reply by @fuckfacemcgregtard

Yeah, but I’m going to jail!

My initial response used to be: Well, okay then. Still a nice day.

My response now is: You did something to deserve it you stupid shit bag!

Look, the process for all forward growth is conflict. Without conflict, competition, and survival of the fittest, we wouldn’t have good people and shit heels. If you’re a good person, good for you, I already like you. If you’re a shit heel, go fuck yourself, never blemish my day with your very shadow, ya shady as fuck idiot. God damned… feels good to get this off my chest.

I’m not focused.

I’ll have a thought, and poof! It’ll be gone! I used to be this way a lot more, but that was when I was drinking redbull, which I am right now! Just a shit ton of the stuff! I don’t care if this gets hits or not, most of my stuff doesn’t anyways, but hey! That’s the beauty of blogging anyone can write a bunch of stuff, and if it gets known!
Fuck yeah!
Just fuck yeah! and the struggle kind of continues!

Lately I’ve been doing a shit ton of streaming on Liveme, and it’s pretty fun, starting to grow a regular fan base, running out of ideas though. but it’s just really strange,, as there are a bunch of weird people on there, and it kind of freaks me out just a bit. But hey, anything to grab those diamonds, BTW if  you grab four million something odd of them, you get 20K for all your hard work, but you can only withdraw 600 a day, which, granted, is fair, but at the same time, you have to fucking grind every single day of every single hour, and it can get exhausting! I mean, I only do it for a few hours, but there are peeps out there that just get that shit done like no tomorrow! and yeah, my minds a bit scattered among the fucking hundreds of different projects I have to complete, but eventually, I’ll get them done! and published!

And then I can get them into the “DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT” folder that I have set up, because there is a bunch of it and I am just frustrated as all hell with the whole writing thing. And the discord thing, about ready to just delete the server and move on from it, but people love it, and if they’re inactive, great, fine, dandy, I’m not going to spend valuable time trying to keep together something that keeps breaking worse and worse, can’t really trust the mods not to fuck things over. But I guess everyone just joined as a joke and when shit just went wrong repeatedly, fewer and fewer of them came back. Which, you know, is fine, it was a thing I enjoyed doing, and now…
Not so much. I guess it really depends on what’s on my mind over time. If it get’s to be too much, I can always just hand it over and be like, “Bro, done with this bullshit.” Because I kind of am, it’s lost it’s luster for me, and I always need to have something in front of me that interests me or else I just plain as hell get bored with it. Are there groups of people that’d like t’see that thing get deleted, they’re sure are! Will I just let the thing float there like a bloated corpse? Meh, why not. If people join, they join, and I’m a bit over trying to maintain it myself.

But people love it, so who am I to try and screw up their happiness. I’ve actually made so many friends from it, but at the same time, it’s just a chillaxed server, really is. I get lonely at times, and than I start bitching about things that I’m either ticked at or have no use for anymore. but that’s just how it goes, day after day. Did you know that I got 30 bucks for helping my mom out at her second to last day? Seriously, 30! Woot! that’s more money  than I’ve made doing youtube for 12 fucking years! And now i’m trying my hand at live streaming?

I’m already up to 45K likes, but the real challenge is getting them diamonds, that’s where the hell it’s at! but there’s so much micromanaging of the small details! Dear god! you’ve got to keep track of a lot of bullshit for a long time and mimic what others are doing! but I am making a name for myself, which is… Great I suppose, all i have to do is keep my nose to the grind stone and burn that fucking data! that’s great if I had a fucking job that payed regularly, but for the most part, I just make pennies on the dollar and i can’t even get game play footage anymore because I fucking gave my second ps3 away like a fucking dumb ass! Because you want to know what’s a great idea to follow through on!? Every single fucking thing I’ve ever done in my fucking god damned life because what the fuck!? What the fuck!? Seriously, I’m asking you!

But than again, no one’s going to leave a comment because who the fuck cares about answering some basic fucking questions on a blog? Seriously, if people do answer, it’s usually some ass twat making a smart ass comment or bringing up the fucking past or anything like that! I’m just sick and tired of being treated like a fucking curiosity, like, “Oh, look Martha, there’s a monkey flinging poo!”
“Yes Reginold, how quaint!”

Are you fucking kidding me!? I feel like every time I get two steps ahead, some fucking dumb ass harasses me about Kimberlee ann Kelly! And I really don’t want to talk about her! I don’t! I’ve written all I could from every angle about the woman, and that name haunts me to no end!

The Curse of Kim decides and deems that I’m not ready for even the stupidest of interactions because some ass twat on the net has fucked me over. When did I get so fucking ridiculous!? Did I really think this fucking plan of mine was going to work out!? Did i!?

god fucking damn it I’m so pissed about a bunch of things that don’t make any sense, and for the first time in a long time, I’m venting my frustrations because I can barely hold a fucking thought of action for long enough time before fucking off, and hoping to god someone else holds my fucking hand, because what the fucking hell else am i going to do with my fucking time!?

I could go insane, yeah, that’d work wonders, and prove my grandparents right about their intonation that I need to be S.E.D. from the age of fucking FIVE YEARS OLD BECAUSE I WAS TALKING LIKE THE OTHER KIDS MY FUCKING AGE! God fucking damn it! I’m raging right the fuck now because my life is an eternally revolving door of fucking bad luck! Whoopi!

Um…. What was I talking about again? I forget… today I had some pizza and walked home, so it was a pretty great day!

Somedays are better than others.

I can’t stand it. I pretend to, but I’m just too frayed at the nerves to do it anymore. I hate living here. Not just in the high desert, but with these people. One person especially. Everyday, every single one of the past four days, I’ve grown to hate that person just a little bit more. Grown to not respect them just a bit everyday. I am tired of pretending to care about their problems as if they were my own. Their voice is a grating sound that become vicious, spiteful, controlling, and full of unwarranted paranioa.

There are times when she’s talking… Shouting about something to me, that I don’t listen passed the second or third thing she says. I’m a nice man by nature, really, I am. But I’ve stopped being fearful of her scorn, if you can call it that. Though there are days when it gets to be too much, that she takes offence at the littlest thing, where even my patience is broken. I shout back, she gets louder, I get louder, she gets in my face, and just from reflex I flinch, just a little bit.

For some reason, she takes this as aggression towards her and snaps at me. After which, I just stare blankly back into her pupils till she breaks eye contact.

I don’t know how much more of this stress I can take. She’s angry about something almost everyday, mostly my fault, but it’s gotten to the point where I just avoid her when I can.

Avoid the source of stress and you’ll be happy. Hard to do when you start the day off happy and by the end of it you want to scream your fucking head off. But I stay quiet, calm, cheerful till I’m alone. Then, and only then, do I let all the stress pour in and take it all in one nasty gulp of sour dissappointment.

Thats it for now. More later.

%d bloggers like this: