Saturday, February 6, 2016

shit one might expect to come out of my ass.

I GOT DIAGNOSED WITH ADHD TODAY. also, i run self-empowerment groups for women only. it's my religion. i wear necklaces with my birthstone on them. as long as it's expensive. i don't know the names of any of them except diamonds because they're satanic and i find that classy. i'll accept any diamond as long as people in africa continue to be forced to mine for them.
otherwise, i've been busy not indulging in my addiction to the internet particularly my lame-o blog, or my "having" of one- as well as me heaving exhibitionist needs. it's not important because prioritizing is gay. how dare i prioritize it. but i wanted to tell you that i'm working hard on a something and that i'm doing what i can to fuck with science and expand possibilities as much as i can in writing. i also wished to inform you that you're an asshole, it's healthy that you shit, and tell your cousin "hi" because i'm obsessed with him but let's keep it a secret that i'm stalking him, and get the fuck out of my house anyway because you bug me out.
i'm glad to hear it about you all remaining uninterested in getting laid because my shit is hot enough.
however the mood came upon me
and

I GOT DIAGNOSED WITH ADHD TODAY WELL OMG MAD DRUGZ!
JUST GONNA HAVE A SLEEPOVER WITH SOME FRIENDS
CALL 911 SAY THE WORD PENIS
CALL 911 SAY OHHHH MY PENIS
CALL 911 (leave the phone to the crevices in the giant couch)
CALL 911 (mumblings of giggling and 'uhhh i like that i think i'm supposed to like that uhhhhh')
CALL 911 (grandpa rows over without his walker and picks up the phone. naughty! naughty!)
                 MY SMALL PENISSSSS...IT'S, IT'S....
GETTING RUBBED IN FORMALDYHYDE (possible intended misprint)...YEAH...YEAH I WANT IT, BABY....I WANT
IT RIGHT THERE ON MY STUB OF A COCK. AND EAT MY BALLS, TOO.

(911 operator feels raped).
(narrator feels raped at least five times a day.)

archie bunker but geriatric: I HAVE GONE INSANE IN THE SUNRISE

he continues: I HAVE GONE INSANE IN THE SUNSET

"sir that's awfully poetic." she- a "she" role is there- wants to be there for his sensitive soul.

archie is mad: IS THAT HOW YOU FUCKING REACT TO POETRY STUPID KID

(they speak candidly with one another.)
"well i've just got to say," started she, "that this is -by far; bar none!- the most interesting and exciting job i've ever had in my fifty-three years! gruesome emergencies, disturbing reports- it's all by and by with me! stuff changes up, it's good to mix it up a little bit once in a while, ya know? you can always expect a surprise here- that's nice. but boy how i wanted that formaldyhyde dick. goddammit how cock-blocked i am! i'm gonna stick those electric mixer spoons in my vagina while you can force the spoon in my mouth and i can even fake seizures no ha ha, but you know me, i'm always yearning to lick a spoon covered in mass produced sugar loaded with chemical shit, it's everyone's favorite drug in america! fuck you, south sudan!
but, anyway, like i was saying, that formaldyhyde dick...[she sighs; then sighs again, but a drawn out sigh] i guess we all gotta face that we can't get what we want all the time, right? look, it just didn't work out. i wanted that dick so i got an ambulette on its way toward him so i could access his dick and do whatevuh i wanted with that dick. but of course, of a sudden, i'm keeling over and doctors be screaming, "jesus this is one nasty case of TSS!" "TSS is always nasty, returd." well i'm of post-menopausal age, but [quiets voice in that hinting to talk about the stuff you're not supposed to talk about it public 'kuz it's the 1800s way] i bet you wouldn't guess what i do. i jack myself off on tampons- you know, obs (the vagina-suffocator brand in plural), i'm not so fancy- oh, yes, but what i mean about getting off on tampons, as long as it's kind of lubed, it's convenient, i think is what i'm trying to say. i've gotten off while pretending to be "professional" at my establishment of employment. yes, i pledge with all my human dignity that strips me of myself as a unique star to my work. i'm really dedicated, i mean, i really connect to the cause and stuff. i'll never forget what i was taught in school, the institution for lining up people into a livestock farm so they can say "moo" to each other all day until the president (all their names are the same) goes through them and chooses which educated child to eat first. virgin girls are the most luxurious, classy meats to spank on the rear. i say my dad makes a fine slab of ass just as well. (whoever the fuck this is speaking, their identity has not stopped changing in sporadic pacing for like nine hundred years)
the educative system enforces punishing. i simply died for it! simply died! and now i'm hear today, getting laid by my lubed tampon anytime i want around whoever i want. i can't wait to get home to my dildo covered in razors. mmmmm. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. it feels tender naive rather suggestible and interested in cocaine and any drug. it is the perfect girl. it's me. i am the perfect girl. i am the perfect girl because i run toward illuminations and i chase for childhood shit. i'm going to come again. ooooh. oh. (faking it.) yeah, oh, oh daddy you're so hot."

"ma'am, are you shitting
"oh, seriously, she's shitting. like i could give two fucks. none of this has even hit me yet considering my state of shock from the environment."

"okay, i shit. [panting, breathing forcibly, to appear "animalistic" somehow, perhaps just unrefined.] i shit out my tampon. tampon after tampon was clogged up in there and i'm wondering why i want dick all the time now. [feels good] fuck yeaahhhh, fuck yeahhhh, words cannot do anything but....denigrate...rudimentary...beauty........i faint...still hallucinating i'm fucking.....drowning in a bathtub in a mule's pool of blood....i'm so...attracted...to the....blood everywhere......"

"fuck this nymphomaniac bitch." "yes, let's." [they slice her open and eat her guts, her fat, especially.] "let's just make a mess and not give a fuck."

"wait man wait dudebro check this out. little marbles filled with drugs came out. we gotta collect the drug-marbles. oh, my god. we're so rich with drug seeking behavior."
"no man, shut up. i'm fucking my real live girlfriend." (nymphomaniac bitch is dead, by the way. she's hanging from a hook. just too serendipitous to not be true- she's right at his height! he experiences a psychosis that she is his real live girlfriend, she's a stupid little bitch and they can fuck whenever he wants so they fuck all day because he is a kid.)

ACCEPT THIS ENDING AS COMPLETE SHIT BECAUSE I COULD GIVE TWO FUCKS ABOUT ENDINGS.

EPILOGUE:
(mick jagger steps forward).

"this ending is shit, i do say." "you can owe your career to otis redding. (digs mick's face in the graveyard dirt) KISS HIS FACE AND SAY 'I'M SORRY'. KISS IT. KISS IT."