It tends to bring on the wrath of the gods.
Polytheistic fetishism? In
your learned experience? It's more disqualifying than you think.
You must be the one that got pecked to death by the sibling that lived.
This profound, solid logic does little for your street cred.
How does one man contain so much hubris?
Creamy nougat champagne cork holds the pressure in check, as the suspense builds to the big reveal; she thought I had no idea that she bought the whore, and I
didn't know for certain, until
this year when I finally was in proper position to ask and get any answer at all, for the first time in over 27 years, “hey, so, why did you so suddenly and abruptly, seemingly without any discernible reason, obviously choose to willingly and knowingly sabotage every possible healthy and constructive avenue for legitimate growth of any fellowship between us whatsoever?” Because that's exactly how it went down, I couldn't understand why you were not noticing that you were consistently taking deliberate actions multiple times a day to make me feel like a fabulously unappreciated plastic trash can filled with spoiled old yogurt, I couldn't imagine that you were so dumb as to be doing it all by accident, but I couldn't imagine why you could have been doing it on purpose – and I didn't want to imagine that you could be such a candy ass coward and expert Jr grade whoremonger as to have done exactly what I imagined that you might had done... and that it didn't occur to you to mention that fact and to talk to me about it. (Why did I do it? Because I figured out that you either were someone I never wanted to do that with, or someone who wanted me to do it, so the obvious correct play was to do it. If I wasn't supposed to and you knew, then why would I want to choose you? I was a little too young to count that calculus in my head without losing track of all the cocks you must have sucked without mentioning it, there were a lot of variables to kill when I wondered that might complete an ability to determine whether your affection were wholly feigned or not. I had imagined that if it had been a problem for you in any way you would have said that; “it was a problem,” instead of simply silently... conspiring with some meathead methhead jockstick cook captain creepo fucko, the way an advanced placement reprobate liar and extra soulless harpy filth queen would. (It was one thing to think that it was an accident, but when I came to realize that you had intentionally lied your ass off from the very beginning, that box of “love” correspondence became even more valuable to future historians. Thanks for leaving the scanner in the bedroom where you had to pretend that you had a parasympathetic nervous system that worked properly without getting blasted every time you wanted a quick twitch, it's not there now, I can barely stand to be in the room even when unconscious, but that's where I found it, next to the Spooky’s discarded spook pants. They really got fucking arrested during an orgy, didn't they? I bet that was fucking epic hawt with you in it for once.) And as you said that it was because you were gay and I couldn't handle that. That I
hated you for your being gay, is what you said in fact. (Sweet Baby Jesus Abolicious, I don't even hate you
now. Please, I'm begging you: find a fucking counselor that you can tell the fucking truth to, and fucking
do that. Why
wouldn't you? Oh, right, Abo DeGeneres.) The damage you caused to innocent bystanding people who had no other alternative than to endure an irrational fear of my possible threat profile for absolutely no reason other than decision to allow a hideous rumor to propagate, bringing an unnecessary experience of anxiety and no small measure of confusion when deciding what to do—tactically — that was utterly without cause or justification, I've got no interest in beating up gay people at all, I don't have a problem with gay people at all, you fucking G-d damn idiot ignoramus faggot fucker fuckhead dope dealing khabbalist Mafia pimpslave. Jesus weeping christ, the fact that you're gay is one of the most humanizing things about you, not to mention the goddam most definitely poetic quality on your c.v. (Maybe this life wasn't for you, but I don't see how anybody could tell the difference.) I knew you didn't “break up” with me (we were together?) because I was too hetero for you, but telling people that you had told me that you were gay and that was what I was sad about, was the most ridiculously poor choice of a cover story I've ever heard of in my entire life. (I guess you had to come up with something in a hurry considering that I deliberately let everything slide to a complete nature and sat there at the bottom watching you look uncomfortable, oh I'm sorry I was inconvenient for you that you had fucked up that badly, oh I should have fucking pretended to be able to pretend to cheer up just to make your life better... which I think I did try to do a few times.) Because over time as I continued to not beat up gay people, people inevitably put two and two boobs together without a penis anywhere in sight until the wallet was on target, and figured out just how fucking much of an actual goddamn lying whore you really had been, and at such an early age—precocious!—and undoubtedly still were, and I don't believe your education or your reputation ever recovered from that. Look where you ended up, and are you happy with how accomplished you are, and are you thrilled that you've got a gang of reprobate drug addict whores on your fucking bed doing the fucking five attic fuck fest every night? Well yeah I bet you are, since you're a full blown sex addict now, seriously have you even noticed the obvious symptoms, try Googling it, and if it occurred to you that it's more fun to fuck than it is to Google reading about fucking, I think you have the answer. If you got drugs as well lucky you, you can “get them” easy,
Wink. Oh, and who's your partner, and who do you
consult with, oh that's
fucking hilarious. What an amazingly distinct common background you two both share. Payroll close to tensioner, I still love you more than ever, and I'm super glad I never got balled up in your obscenity and also anal torture scheme, I would have been ending up in a shallow grave for sure. No, I
knew absolutely that you were gay, that was
beyond obvious. I knew your accomplice was gay as well, because she had told me the year before, “privately” in algebra class. (She didn't tell me about
math,
ever, yeah, fucking hell, that would have been an awful fucking thing to share with me, obviously I never could have learned to handle it as well as you motley lot did, huh? Oh yeah you're all fucking experts, ain't ya, so she told me she was fucking gay, which caught me by surprise that she appeared to believe that nobody knew that already, “I think I'm in love with a girl!” wow, did you think you just gobbled your first batch of Molly, too? Why didn't you hit the trifecta right then and there and realize that you had just turned off forever the first person who was going to always remember you for it for being so relentlessly self-absorbed that you even thought that you had to make up a story to break up with me, and she thought I bought it, lol.) I assumed as much when all of a sudden people I had only recently met when they walked up to me and pretending to be my good friends are suddenly taking me to new places (a variety of corner convenience stores that sold beer to minors and two titty bars) and encouraged me to do things that never happened to even cross my mind before, why else would that happen, and to what end would I not want to find out whether it was a trick played on her or whether it was a trick played on me by her?
I don't know if you thought that one through, I think somebody talked you into that (by giving you dope and raping you, you fucking more-on, you were how old? he got it from where? Don't answer, just keep looking for a counselor you can rely on do not send me unsolicited copies of your nudes) and you were like, “yeah that'd be funny,” because of course I wouldn't do that, and if I did, what a bastard that would mean I were! (I had sex with a pretty girl and I liked it, and I figured if she could have gotten a baby out of it then she was welcome to challenge me in court with her statutory rape of a minor charge under her belt instead of a baby bottle and my wallet. I can imagine you might have thought otherwise, but she was actually much nicer to me with her clothes on, than you ever were in your entire life to me and everyone else with your clothes off, I'd wager. No, you're not ugly at all, she's just not overwhelmingly sullied in my memory, and your belief that you are fat and that that was a disaster on a woman, well I haven't seen you lately and I haven't heard your voice lately so maybe... maybe it is? I don't know, maybe you rolled up on, you know, your “husband” said that you were a washed up crack whore that he used to do a lot of crack with, and boy aren't you glad you hung out with him? I mean it's better than at least you weren't with me, right? (Literally, he spoke of you to me exactly one time, and that's exactly what he said about you. And if I had known who he was talking about, I would have killed him.)
Apparently it was a surprise that I saw through the entire setup while I was waiting for the woman to come back from the bar with a tall Shirley Temple with extra cherries after she asked me if I wanted to buy her a drink? Nigger, I was 15 in a strip bar, I had plenty of time to think about what this could possibly mean for me, calculate the variables, as they say, and I don't know if you remember this but I didn't exactly have a lot of social interactions before then so how they suddenly just came up all out of nowhere at the same time after you suddenly came back from being shy and demure to being Sabrina the Teenage Bitch, I assumed the most likely reason for all these wildly unlikely happenstance quizzes to all occur suddenly at the same time is that they were filling the sequel to “Carrie”? No, you were planning to steal my seed and use it to commit fraud for reasons of eugenics (as well as to buy lots of extra shoes)! I'm glad you saved yourself for someone you really loved, (and was that interesting he got caught in a knock-up trap within fucking 7 months, wow I'm sure happy you picked him instead of some loser who didn't respect you) and I was so sad to discover that you were going to not say a word rather than admit that you tried to play me. For one thing, that doesn't really disrespect yourself so much as it indicates your subconsciously poor lack of social upbringing, as well as your obvious belief that I'm a complete idiot and it never mattered at all whether I would ever figure it out you just need to get out of the room with an excuse that sounded good. You know, PTSD is a Hell of an affliction. Tried? No you fucking did play me, and then within a few minutes of thought—came to mind pretty easily—I set up a counter-scheme to play you back just as hard as you thought you were going to play me. I adored you when I realized what you had done to me I was prepared to murder the planet on the way through to a vengence death strike upon your shriveled raisin heart. Seems like it worked pretty well. You can time travel now, right? Because I can, and I have these foundational documents, they must be good for something, right?
Let me guess: you totally wanted to help me with that before, but now that I've told you the truth you're so horrified you can't possibly imagine being nice to me ever again. Yeah I was just kidding, I know you respect this kind of bullshit even more than you do when you do it other people, you're probably wet for the first time in... an hour.
The reason why you became a reviled & loathsome caricature forever known as the ultimate poster child for representing and symbolizing your legendary and ultimate social failure-excuse me catastrophe-is that people figured out what you had tried to do from the very beginning. (Even if they couldn't figure it out, they noticed that you went from helping somebody be happier to fucking want her off and being a total douchebag right in front of him, gee I wonder why? Was because I raped you? Oh no no it's because I had sex with somebody that you paid for the opportunity to fucking expose me to. And there's no way that somebody else did it and then told you later and then you just held your violin and then slowly but surely fucked me off right after you conveniently talk to you the line your mother so you can get birth control pills and why you fucking needed excuse for that I have no idea I was just fucking knock over the gas station, just start drinking motor oil what the fuck I bet that would empty out your fucking uterus, and you probably get next few extra miles to the gallon on your way to the next gin joint kitty corner from the next whoremonger's palace. I want you to think about the person you used to be realize that you fucking wasted who you were on that, frankly at this point I think you were better served with the puke on your shoe.) There's no way you suddenly pivoted and flipped to Tramp Level Maximum after you thought it would be simpler to give me a teddy bear and watch me cry then simply tell the truth. I wasn't weeping because I was going to miss you, or sad that I tried so hard and it just didn't work out, or devastated because I just wasn't man enough for you, I was weeping FOR YOU; because in that moment it was obvious that you had been deceptive the entire time, and I knew that it would do you no favors in the great post-scandal steeplechase you were about to enter. And that you had no fucking idea that 30 years later I was going to remember every fucking thing as well as I did the day before and I would still feel kind of sad for you and sympathetic for how stupid a person could be but it never in a million years imagined in my mind that you're fucking idiot friends will let you get fucked off as badly you don't fucking did when I end up fucking finding you, fucking I asked somebody about where you were like multiple times over five fucking years and they fucking never told me the fucking truth even once like holy shit did you even know or I guess you told people to lie about where you were Jesus how fucking embarrassed could you have been well welcome to your new year of embarrassment. See, it's not so bad, it doesn't even sting a little does it, but at least nobody ever saw you hanging out with me within 6 ft and holding hands, shit, that would be the end of the fucking world for your reputation, people might think you got the clap! oh my God, who would give you the clap—please!
The larger majority part of the members in your social status class group population came to loathe you, your name became at first a sad joke and ultimately a bilious and disgusting pity double dog whistle, as well as the reason why someone or someones went so far as to take the bold, declarative steps that culminated with murdering your cat, is because it did not take long for people to figure out what you had both tried to do. (I came back the next day I couldn't figure out why the house was just so trash like was that by the accident or was it some sort of plan or does it just sort of happen or like what the hell happened why why would anybody do this oh oh I know exactly why they do it fuck I can't believe they didn't burn the fucking thing down, Jesus what a douchebag oh yeah he ended up working grocery in South Seattle fucking wow I guess people really did take it out on fuck I thought I had a hard time, but you know at least I wasn't freaking working stocking shelves at fucking White Center, hanging out behind the Piggly wiggly breaking down cardboard boxes 18-17 hours a day dealing coke and not knowing what meth is Jesus what a poor fucker. Can you imagine? Thinking that coke is safe and meth is dangerous what a bunch of fucking idiots, and those were your people that you picked. Yeah you didn't stay there long, did you? And you know he offered Jessica to me once and I was like... “oh, no thanks, you saw her first.” yeah I admit it was kind of nice of him to try and do anything nice at all (but how many friends could have had compared to before anyway, maybe he figured he would just like win some points by pretending to like me again or ever or anything but without oxygen and without me having known that it was known to you that I knew what you did anyway, I couldn't believe like didn't you feel guilty oh that's right you were on dope all the time, lol, why what's that like, did you have some snotty gang of fucking thugs fucking foil around trying to jam me up the whole time too? Oh that's so strange you seemed so popular), but I don't know how anybody could have ever recovered from that especially since he was ultimately a fucking idiot douchebag, but then again so were you... but at least you have tits. Let me guess chemotherapy in 3 weeks right? Well remember the cozy advantage, you can slice off your tits and a quarter of your ass and it wouldn't change much of anything about how I felt about you I'm still quite fond of your cold & clammy soul and your brackish goods looks and “kiss my ass” attitude. Look, this may come as a surprise you, but people make mistakes, and I recall that you showed at least a smidgen of remorse, and then you definitely didn't want to ever hear about what happened, and you were thinking it was better off that I never ever know the truth and you would carry it to your grave that that was a better idea than you know fucking recovering what was the loss, of course she didn't really lose anything cuz you didn't actually take me seriously in the first place did you? You know you really missed out on the good things in life, didn't you? Well it's a good thing you got kids, I bet you're doing real good learning them how to watch you learn from them. I can see why you were to be concerned about me meeting them, ever, at least not without having my tongue cut out first. And you know I am really sorry that you've got this much of a painful memory to deal with, because that must really suck to know how little you understood about anything at the time and how you were obviously manipulated by somebody else and then you blamed me and then ran off with them and let them traffic you to fucking Jordan. Every good Irish go to Jordan! I always thought of you when I thought of Kayla Miller. Müeller. Whatever. Have you ever heard of Xanax?
I knew that I could never tell anybody what I knew for sure, because that would spread rumors in a big way once became more common knowledge how little I actually knew, that would certainly get tongues wagging, and I did not want to believe that anybody could be such a royal steaming ignorant anus–to–mouth example of slatterly trampdom as you in fact were, and clearly have developed yourself further into, although at this point I believe there's no possible way that you can be solely to blame or even at all cuz I'm pretty sure you were kidnapped and raped with mind control chemicals that one summer. It's called “grooming,” Box Master. It certainly changed your opinion on things real quick, in my view, and then everyone else’s view as well. (I assume you thought you were being subtle and sly, but word was spreading already about the particularly unusual nature of your Powter Woman and Dynagirl dynamic I don't know myself, I refuse to remember such a thing, but I bet you remember your first initiation service, like it happened yesterday at the canned tuna plant back behind the bleachers.
A little bit shortly thereafter I figured it out, although at the time it never occurred to me that you would be that much of a fraudulent, manipulative, and ethically bankrupt example of renegade outlaw white trash. (And also Abo.)
So does all this seem a little harsh? I might be a little too brutal? I don't know actually cuz actually it just seems kind of funny to me, I can't believe that you're actually taking any of this serious at all anyway you have fucking 30 fucking years to get over your fucking guilt and then what suddenly it's all in your face just cuz I'm using a bunch of profanity words and highfalutin vocabulary and describing things in a terribly fucked-off way with no respect for remorse for your fucking feelings? Well I guess that's just the public face and then when I see you in person I'll drop trou and let you peg me and then it'll be all better. (Note that this actually works for some people, but let me reiterate that I'm being exaggeratively ironic... I'm still quite fond of you, I'm sure you never would have done these things on purpose if you would only known what the consequences were, and if you would realize how it diligent I was when I could fucking breathe and not be distracted by your feminine wiles and the vague subtextual threat of just how much of a lady Black widow you might actually have been, I was thinking that you actually kind of had real feelings for me but probably was just you being low on dopamine and not wanting to exert yourself too much while you were sizing up your lesser prey.
I may not look very sharp or snappy, but:
I'm spry. Also, I probably love your husband more than you do, and I kind of miss him so it's too bad you got all that all fucked up he probably doesn't know what the hell to make of anything at all but he must enjoy this because like I said he's describe you as a fucked-off coke slave, so... I can see why you thought I was an idiot and that he was disavowing himself from any kind of line/lyme marriage action.
No, I don't know where you want to go from here actually cuz I was quite surprised to discover that I was being led to talk to you because I wasn't trying to look for my whatever next delay partner or whatever the fucker my love of my life no no no I was simply like to talk to a particular person and I don't know if it's you actually there's one particular slice of humanity I'm looking to find and with this fucking shit that's keeping me from talking to people the right way and with you being the fucked up messy actually are it's been pretty difficult to actually have a conversation with the right person, and I would prefer to have the conversation before I start having sex with somebody because I can have sex with anybody that's appropriate for me and it'll be fine however I think the whole world will be better off if I get the right one because then it won't be totally fucked off for all the other ones down the line and up the line of the chain of fucked off whores that got ended up in a time clone tunnel.
On top of that these latest developments have made me want to vomit to the bottom of my stomach every fucking time I think of my penis so pretty much the usual pillow talk but I am not really in a big hurry to get laid and for you to imagine that I automatically wanted to fucking fuck you just cuz I wanted to fucking talk to you is the most arrogant piece of shit garbage nonsense fucking bullshit I've ever heard my entire fucking life and has a kind of flattering but I guess you know pretty much nobody well give you the time of day anymore, will they? Oh that's right you're making time with the girl who lied to me her five years and tried to steal my house and all my money and poison me you're tight with her and you can rely on her a pinch, and both laughing everyday I think you might have seen how well this worked out in some jurisdictions but once again I think there's a lot of possible ways that you can pull out of this nosedive.
None of them involve fellatio. (Ed: Frick!) please know that I wasn't kidding, I can't believe that this is bad, and then I was trying to be nice by not explaining it this clearly in public but I don't see why I shouldn't considering you're the most insulting bitch I've ever fucking met my goddamn life carrying a grudge this fucking long about this fucking shit when you're the fucking one who made that fucking bad in the first place you know I didn't fucking tell you to fucking fuck me off cuz I wanted to fuck you and give you a baby oh no no that was all your fucking idea you showed up you did this you did this and then you did the whole fucking thing immediately your fucking shit that you wanted and then you fucked me off like a common piece of fucking gutter trash and didn't think you'd ever have to fucking contain another fucking consequence I your life, did you?
Well on the bright side, nobody in the entire world is ever going to fault you for not seeing me coming, and then by this point women are expected to be lying dope slave fucked off warmongering slut so it's not a big deal nobody's going to really really make you feel bad except for yourself when you remember that you were the smartest you're the prettiest and I loved you and you did... what?
And only that, you did what... without me... at all, ever? Oh yeah you fucking love me all right you're fucking hooked through the nose and the bag you can't fucking do a single fucking thing without the right flavor on your tongue but I'm supposed to be sober and then fucking make the fucking grade to just in that proves that fucking beautiful you are holy shit did you just like get an anti-psychiatry course or some shit going? whatever.
Anyway I'm not planning on getting late anytime soon if you knew Jack or shit about life you'd probably understand that I said what I meant and I meant what I said that's not what I was doing today but thanks again for insulting me the way you well didn't really insult me but you were a little gang of ripper babe skinny slut puppets did not impress me.
On the other hand now I know RaRa was always gay and and some other peeps too, I never would be able to figure that out, cuz I didn't really care but I got more Intel and then I saw how the other half lives and then I saw what happened when people thought I was going to go after you again, and boy do they waste their fucking time cuz trust me I'm good being friends with you, and you'll be a fucking lucky woman if you ever get my fucking dick up in the air at all let alone have to offend me off, like what do they think I'm going to do fucking corrupt you or some shit? Oh yeah yeah cuz they think I'm going to you know scoop all of me and you and then take advantage of your “virtue” she's a bunch of fucking stupid whores not you you're probably the smartest of the bunch, at least you're smart enough to fucking listen to me at all.
Imagine the audiobook. Later5 Gator7, 69 buttons on a string around your neck can't get your carotid artery too tight now can it? I fucking will go find out by yourself and watch you do something with your life. Jesus
wept.
