this is me
Here we go folks, hold on....
I posted an ad on Craigslist yesterday, looking for a writer for one of my blogs....yeah, I think I have three or four now, two different names...
Anyway, I wanted a writer to write some erotic fiction. And I pay shit.
This one guy sent a sample of his work, and a link to his blog.
I read through his blog.
This is what I found....
"I'm back on the fence about that Barbara Streisand CD again. I'm on no fence about how hot 'so-and-so' is, and how good that 'xxxx' movie was."
This guy is a PUBLISHED author. He wrote a book. AND he writes REVIEWS!
Yet, he CANNOT come up with one fucking opinion about some stupid gay CD.
What the fuck? Have an opinion goddammit!!
This guy is a LOSER! He's the stereotypical homosexual. Weak, blaze, BORING!!
He probably has some stupid emotionally unavailable preppy boyfriend on the Upper West Side that makes him douche three times before they have sex.
I'm calling up my girlfriends, and we're going to go over there and beat the shit out of both of them. Just because we can.
I've had it with all these weak, wimpy, mediocre gay men!
They fill their lives with CLUTTER, expensive objets d'art, expensive clothes, expensive counter tops, because, really, they HAVE NOTHING TO SAY!
If they were interesting, they wouldn't spend the entire evening talking about dry wall.
I once broke up with a guy because he had an over-stuffed flower-print sofa and a Chippendale china cabinet. He was a doctor. So, you know that this Long Island girl was really not having it!
He was boring. And his furniture looked like it came right out of the Seamen's showroom, in the exact position they had it on display.
The conversation was all about....
I saw so-and-so in Greece
then we flew to Milan for the festival
then we went to Plaza del Eat-my-ass for something even more stupid.
Bite me.
Nothing ever HAPPENED in those places, except that he bought more china or porcelain, or dick-blown glass.
I made him pay for brunch.
Some guys, you want to just fuck them so fucking hard so that they can finally FEEL something in their lives.
Wake them up! Slap them, tie them up, bite them, leave teeth marks!
All of their emotions bottled up; surpressed by alcohol, drugs, over-eating, over-buying, emotionless anonymous sex, whatever.
Slap them so hard and make them SCREAM in pain! Force them to FEEL!
Stick some lawn furniture up their ass and give them the best fucking orgasm they've ever had.
Right after they come, they start sobbing.
"YOU understand me," they cry between the tears. Yes, I do. You're not that different. You're not so complex. You're a fucking textbook case.
They've just realized all of the years WASTED trying to be someone they're not, years WASTED trying to prove something to someone, not happy in the process -- all pointless.
And then, they want to be your boyfriend.
No, you can't be my boyfriend. You disgust me.
Now get the fuck out.
I posted an ad on Craigslist yesterday, looking for a writer for one of my blogs....yeah, I think I have three or four now, two different names...
Anyway, I wanted a writer to write some erotic fiction. And I pay shit.
This one guy sent a sample of his work, and a link to his blog.
I read through his blog.
This is what I found....
"I'm back on the fence about that Barbara Streisand CD again. I'm on no fence about how hot 'so-and-so' is, and how good that 'xxxx' movie was."
This guy is a PUBLISHED author. He wrote a book. AND he writes REVIEWS!
Yet, he CANNOT come up with one fucking opinion about some stupid gay CD.
What the fuck? Have an opinion goddammit!!
This guy is a LOSER! He's the stereotypical homosexual. Weak, blaze, BORING!!
He probably has some stupid emotionally unavailable preppy boyfriend on the Upper West Side that makes him douche three times before they have sex.I'm calling up my girlfriends, and we're going to go over there and beat the shit out of both of them. Just because we can.
I've had it with all these weak, wimpy, mediocre gay men!
They fill their lives with CLUTTER, expensive objets d'art, expensive clothes, expensive counter tops, because, really, they HAVE NOTHING TO SAY!
If they were interesting, they wouldn't spend the entire evening talking about dry wall.
I once broke up with a guy because he had an over-stuffed flower-print sofa and a Chippendale china cabinet. He was a doctor. So, you know that this Long Island girl was really not having it!
He was boring. And his furniture looked like it came right out of the Seamen's showroom, in the exact position they had it on display.
The conversation was all about....
I saw so-and-so in Greece
then we flew to Milan for the festival
then we went to Plaza del Eat-my-ass for something even more stupid.
Bite me.
Nothing ever HAPPENED in those places, except that he bought more china or porcelain, or dick-blown glass.
I made him pay for brunch.
Some guys, you want to just fuck them so fucking hard so that they can finally FEEL something in their lives.
Wake them up! Slap them, tie them up, bite them, leave teeth marks!
All of their emotions bottled up; surpressed by alcohol, drugs, over-eating, over-buying, emotionless anonymous sex, whatever.
Slap them so hard and make them SCREAM in pain! Force them to FEEL!
Stick some lawn furniture up their ass and give them the best fucking orgasm they've ever had.
Right after they come, they start sobbing.
"YOU understand me," they cry between the tears. Yes, I do. You're not that different. You're not so complex. You're a fucking textbook case.
They've just realized all of the years WASTED trying to be someone they're not, years WASTED trying to prove something to someone, not happy in the process -- all pointless.
And then, they want to be your boyfriend.
No, you can't be my boyfriend. You disgust me.
Now get the fuck out.
4 comments:
I'm on the fence, too -- solid granite vs. Corian.
Which has more investment value at resale?
I LOVE that pink cable-knit summer weight cashmere sweater!
Where'd ya get it? Does is come in XXXL?
Honeyies this is Hudson granite or corian? be like everyone else and use a fucking sheet of ply wood. Don't go getting all high and mighty on us drug dealing ho's.
Wow, jaded. I love "Plaza del Eat-my-ass". Priceless. And the thing about having to fuck them so hard so they finally FEEL something is right on. U mix trash talk with gay philosophy quite well, LI girl.
Post a Comment