Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Well, what do you know: speaking of shame:

someone wiped this piece of shit all over the internets.

Oh, look, it's an over-entitled overgrown fratboy telling smutty, "politically incorrect" stories wherein he admits up front that he's an asshole; therefore, all assholery excused! it's a JOKE, see. indulgent laugh. you're so bad. o giggle giggle. Vicious dullwitted homosocial body-hating misogyny is so cute. Daring, too. Those endearingly wacky boys and their kooky antics. I'm sure he'll grow out of it before his first coronary. Or, well, at least he'll probably want to settle down, finally; find a nice girl he can bring home to Mum and Dad.

unless of course something happened first. it would really be too bad if the author and all his friends were to be eaten by a pack of roving wolverines.

or if he accidentally choked to death on his own toenails.

or was firmly escorted off the planet by aliens who know a desperate cry for a good anal probe when they hear it; and they forgot to return him and he ended up dazed and disoriented and hurting in an interstellar alley, trying, unsuccessfully, to hitch a ride back from Alpha Centauri.

or if his dreary misogynistic fantasy life took a turn into someone else's dreary misogynistic fantasy life; like this one.

i'm just saying. shit happens, you know?


Rey said...

Seriously: how do you find these people?

And why do you only find their blogs? You should find their home addresses so we can send them hate mail. Or wolverine mail. Or anthrax.

Bitch | Lab said...

ATTN: do not read if you are weak in the tummy!

<<< or if he accidentally choked to death on his own toenails. >>>

reminds me of a story. my mother in law had multi-infar dimentia. sorta like alzheimer's but caused by mini-strokes that put tiny perforations in the brain each time it happens. each mini-stroke brings on a decline in physical and mental capacities. you wouldn't notice the stroke, just the odd behavior: like feeding a "friend" or seeing elves popping out of my son's bean bag chair.

after she got really bad, we finally got someone to diagnose her with the physical need to be in a nursing home. until then, she was labeled mentally incapacitated and thus not eligible to be placed in a nursing home.

so, i visited her every week. right after we transferred her to a nursing home, the wasband asked for a divorce.

for some odd reason, the illness made her turn on her whole family, even her fave son, the wasband. instead, she loved me. i was her best buddy and the only one who understood her -- acc. to her.

yes, it was a small bit of satisfaction during the divorce. heh. she was insane, but that was OK. they say that these diseases just lower inhibitions anyway by attacking that part of the brain responsible for helping us maintain those inhibitions.

anyway, one day, she's telling me stories of her husband. apparently, her husband (he'd died by the time I met the wasband) had slept around on her a lot. but, being poor with 5 kids, and a work history of being a maid, she was stuck.

so, she put up with his stuff. one thing she hated was the way he clipped his toenails. he's sit in the living room, clip, and put them in an ashtray.

grated on her nerves. all her anger for the sleeping around distilled into that one moment of hatred each time those clippers made the sharp clipping sound and he tossed a toenail into the ashtray.

one day, she was fixing him his liver and onions.

guess what got fried up with the dish? Or so she said. it may have been true. it may have been fantasy. but I had a hard time not bursting out laughing right there in the nursing home that saturday.

Bitch | Lab said...

"multi-infarct dimentia" is that actual name of the disease.

Anonymous said...

God almighty.... you hit the nail on the head with Bitty, mind.

belledame222 said...

Rey: I can't claim credit, it's been making the rounds.

belledame222 said...

My great-grandma, rest her soul, once told me when I was a kid that "you shouldn't hate anyone," when I was telling her about some boy that was tormenting me. I remember I burst into tears and wasn't sure why. goes with the general life theme of "don't tell me how i feel i guess."

anyway, great-granny wasn't the nicest person herself; but once she got dementia, it really all started to hang out. she was finally kicked out of her retirement/halfway house to a nursing home when she whacked some poor old guy with her cane.