July 2010
7 posts
Note to Self
Don’t tweet shit about smoking meth. Your mom’s on twitter nowdays and you’re still not sure she’s recovered after finding out that you’ve touched boy’s wieners.
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You smell like bacon & oppression, man.
– When I grow up I’m gonna be a beatnik.
THESE PEOPLE EXIST. I HAVE DATED THEM - XVI
Ex tweaker. Kept the cleanest goddamn house known to single mankind. Purveyor of assorted heavy duty pharmaceuticals & some truly awesome weed. Rad make out buddy but close to ruined mechanics downstairs. Only dude I’ve ever had to quit mid blow; if shit had taken any longer someone woulda filed a missing persons report.
Fucking amphetamines.
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June 2010
11 posts
Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny.
– So if you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich.
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Apparently I have a type
4 of my ex’s have been/are in hardcore bands (most of them shitty). Another one co-owns a hardcore label. That’s a standing count of 5. These aren’t just the usual ‘thanks for last night’ guys either, these are 5 guys I have actively dated. And I don’t really ‘date’ a whole lotta dudes. Two I grew up with. One I moved states for. One I agreed to...
I am ridiculously proud I don’t have herpes.
– Apparently herp immunity is my superpower
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Maybe it's like one of those life swap deals
You know the ones, some 12 year old girl wakes up as a magically wealthy Tom Hanks, complete with a tit job & a Ferrari or some shit like that. I don’t know, I don’t watch shitty preteen movies much these days.
Anyway, I think someone crossed my wires. My fairy godmother got royally wasted along the way & I’ve woken up with the libido of a 21 year old dude at a girls...
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I love you so much I’d fuck you in the ass 3 hours after Taco Bell.
– This is all the proof I need that my boy really does love me. Apparently. (via)
Blandindiebandwithbeardsandglasses &...
– Shit. You got me. I’m not an internet hipster. I have a life & don’t listen to shit music written by fucktards who survive solely on coffee enemas & wear stupid glasses. I guess I’ll never write for pitchfork or whichever music blog vinyl humping retards in too tight jeans...
May 2010
7 posts
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Awkward
It’s awesome being told that Clint Mansell reads your blog so in all likelihood, knows all bout that uber crush you have on him. Oops.
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What are *you* doing tonight?
Me, I have a standing invitation to a threesome.
This is not the first serious proposal I’ve received. And I don’t know why this happens. Apparently something about me screams “I’d like to poke around in each other’s vaginas for a bit then have my boyfriend/husband pack your lunchbox full of dick.” Hoo-fuckin-ray for me.
I put it down to the always...
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Drugs ARE the answer
Course it kinda depends on what your question was.
Got a lotta questions? Try a fucktonne lotta drugs. Go, knock yourself out. I’m sure you’ll work something out in the end.
Either way, chances are you’ll fuck off & stop bothering me.
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The brothels are recruiting
This can only mean that the US Navy has another tincan full of sailors set to dock. Rad. Prepare for the city to be conspicuously absent of women who don’t find the term ‘drunken scragwhore’ an insult. The initiated among us stock up and stay home. The greenhorn girls? Poor silly bitches, they don’t even see that shit coming. But if you’re a hooker - MOTHERFUCKIN...
April 2010
5 posts
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So....
marleymarley:
Apparently there’s now a version of ‘strip’ Rock Band.
I’ve played strip Rock Band. Or wait, maybe that was just the time I had dinner with a guy then went back to his place where his housemates were having drinks & he tried teaching me how to play Rock Band but I got bored & just wanted to make out with him & then we had awesome sex on the sofa while his...
March 2010
9 posts
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Imaginary dictionary
Cameltoepia (n) -
While cameltoe (n) is the bizarre phenomenon that most commonly occurs due to the unfortunate collision of style deficient hipster chick & lycra leggings, cameltopia is an ideally perfect level of society - featuring vaginal cleavage as far as the eye can see.
Dude, apparently there’s a sale on leggings at American Apparel. I shit you not, it’s a veritable...
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How to Sell Your Underwear on the Internet →
(via fivefifteen) Strangely enough, the boy & I discussed this a few nights ago. I considered it. After all, who am I to deny someone their heartfelt desire to own a pair of genuine, gold standard pre-loved panties? In the end, everyone wins. Someone gets their very own pair of lady scented underwear to do with what they will. And I get to buy more panties which is awesome cos shopping is...
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Someday I'm gonna write a book
It’ll be the definitive guide for women seeking to attract men. It’ll be a raging sucess, sparking massive print runs & translated into 40 languages. And it’ll be one of the most cost effective operations in history cos it only has one goddamn page. Step 1: Have a vagina. Boobs are pretty handy too.
Step 2: Be breathing*
*This is merely a recommendation, not a...
February 2010
14 posts
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This is why I don't watch the "news"
What’s with all Tiger Wood’s little cock sleeve “mistresses” wanting an apology? Apologise to his fucking wife you sanctimonious bitches. Then get the fuck off my tv.
Pisses me off that all these women are made out to be victims. Women are still screaming that we want to be seen as being “equal”. Well part of that whole equality deal is that I have equal rights...
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You Really Shouldn't Dick That™
After reading/seeing some of the shit that gets sent my way, I’m seriously considering starting a tumblr full of photos of stuff you really shouldn’t fuck.
It’d start with that clip of some dude using a retardedly large funnel to stuff some japanese chick’s ass full of baby eels. I mean, you can’t unsee that kinda shit. And when you see the funnel come...
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You don't need drugs. Believe me. I've never seen...
It’s nice to know that your dealer buddies think that you’re weirder than they are.
Imaginary dictionary
Floydian (adj) -
Relating to or being in accordance with the psychoanalytic theories of Pink Floyd.
What were you smoking/snorting/shooting last night? All that crazy shit about time & space and death & consumerism? Then you puked in my dishwasher, got naked, stared at the wall for 3 hours & passed out in the bathtub. Shit was floydian.
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