I don't know what your real name is--and I don't care.
Because I loathe you.
I am posting this at work because I can't wait until I get home to let you know just how much I'd like to uppercut you fiercely in the Clooteris. As a matter of fact, I've spent the last three rounds building up my Special Meter simply to unleash the most devastating final attack ever upon your filthy vagina. I hate you so much.
Firstly--no, you're not interesting. Lots of people dye their hair black. Lots more just have it. Turns out it comes that way. Yup. Just grows. And no, you're not pretty enough to be the Homing Torpedocunt that you are. I don't care what stupid half-literate dudes you drag around with you to make you feel better about your shallow lifeless existence. And y'know what? Reading about people in horrible situations doesn't impress me. You read "Rape: A Love Story"? That's great. I'm glad you read a lot and consider yourself cultured. Fantastic! I got you a prize! It's called a 'Bronzed Go-Fuck-Yourself'. It's shaped like my middle finger, spiked, and electrified. Feel free to repeatedly thrust it vigorously into your Cavernous Crustfactory. Front and rear entrances.
Secondly--don't call me by my first name. We are not friends. If we were friends, I would have to seriously rethink my lifestyle--as it would mean I had actually gone completely insane. As a matter of fact, the day we become friends is the day I leap off of a building into a flaming helicopter. The German fucker from Indiana Jones would be proud. Anyway--back to my point--which is I hate you and you're not interesting.
Thirdly--saying things like "I'm not nice." and "Can you not find the book? Or do you just suck at your job?" isn't cute. It's not endearing. That's called "Being obtuse because none of my other qualities make me feel validated as a human being." You're a bitch. Worse yet, you're a dumb bitch. Triple worse, you're a dumb bitch that thinks she's really smart. Quadruple worse, you're a dumb bitch that thinks she's really smart, has a huge hard-on over herself, and is utterly transparent. I hate you and everything you stand for.
The next time I see you--instead of just saying "Who are you and where do you come from?" as I did today. I will leap over the Information Desk and deliver a flying kick directly to that teeming quagmire between your chubby unattractive thighs while simultaneously dropping two elbows into your big dumb face and then--deftly using my prehensile COCK--I will pull a cord that will release a trapdoor beneath you, that will drop you directly into a pit of rabid ferocious hounds--who are on fire, and also robots. You will be torn to little bitty stupid boring shreds. You are so dumb.
Get the fuck out of my store,
Dakotah (Who is better than you.)
P.S. Your life is a lie.
SO. MUCH. ANGER.
ReplyDeletegod. this is something I would write.
eeeyup, it's just THAT BAD. not in writing, i mean, it's definitely not that bad in terms of the way it's written... just in terms of like, unadulterated hate.
i fucking love it. i think i'll print it out and post it on the ceiling over my bed.
But see, I don't LIKE feeling that way. It makes for good material--but in the end it shouldn't matter if somebody sucks. I should separate myself from it and let her have her Cuntparade by her lonesome.
ReplyDeleteYou shouldn't shy away from extreme emotions, but instead find a way to let them out in a controlled environment. Like a blog.
ReplyDeletePAH.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I know. To clarify--I don't mind getting pissed off about stuff, but I felt like this idiot even worth getting pissed about. She was just a shallow moron who thought she was super cool. I wish I wasn't at didn't have to tolerate her shit. I was wishing she'd turn up outside once I got off so I could tell her never to talk to me again.
yeah, yeah, i know it's very much your "low self" getting pissed and whatnot at this kind of thing, but it's incredibly entertaining and so familiar i can't help but appreciate it. besides, i have no real input on how to rise above this kind of thought pattern because i, myself, cannot manage to do it. you're really much better at that than i am.
ReplyDeleteand, obviously, namnesor (hello whoever you are!) is totally right. this is what blogs are made for. when you can't help but have this reaction, this is where you put it. then you can just leave it here, and sort of process it. so, there's that.
and i really do enjoy your writing, btw. whatever level of consciousness it comes from.
BITCH YOU KNOW WHO I AM
ReplyDeletehow dare you.
ReplyDeleteall caps is SO rude.
all i can do is make an educated guess as to your identity. this isn't AA.
But it is a game now!
ReplyDeleteYou've met me fairly recently, and I've been with Dakotah each time.
That should be a dead giveaway.
BEEN WITH Dakotah is right.
ReplyDeleteAHA. i suspected as much. there were clues. and that means --
ReplyDeleteI KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT. truly.
But do you know where he sleeps DURING THE DAY?
ReplyDeleteuuummmmm... a crypt?
ReplyDeleteHE'S A DRACULA THAT'S WHY I HANG OUT WITH HIM SO MUCH.
ReplyDeletewait... does that mean YOU'RE a dracula, too? did he bite you?!?
ReplyDeletewait, omg -- does that mean I'M a dracula?!?
You guys are so stupid. Vampires don't exist.
ReplyDeleteI'm a Jew.
Jews can't be Draculas?
ReplyDeleteJewculas.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing this was missing were clickable links on phrases like "Cavernous Crustfactory"
ReplyDelete