I am a fucked-up-chick magnet.

I wonder what it is that makes me attractive or seemingly interesting to fucked-up chicks with mental issues, fucked-up tattoos by user ex-boyfriends, and fucking batshit insane families with just as many problems. I would like to think that maybe their families are unstable and unbalanced because of their fucked-up daughters, but I have a feeling that it's practically genetic and goes all the way back through the lineage. Seriously, why does every girl that finds me attractive seem to have a broken fucking home? Or demented, society-rejected best friends? Or two or three jealous, psycho ex-boyfriends? Or, hell, girlfriends for that matter?

I went to the gas station late last night, the same one I always go to. More for convenience's sake than anything else. There's a decent looking girl that works there, but definitely nothing special. Somewhat white trash, too, which is a love/hate thing for me, much in the same sense as Fricker's. But I had no idea. She occasionally flirts, and anyone who knows me knows that I show so much interest when people try striking up conversations. So, with that in mind, we all know how white trash love it when you ignore them.

But it never fails that she always wants to talk. The other week I overheard her bitching to the other clerk about her boyfriend dumping her. So I tried to avoid her line, but the guy closed his on my way up there. Shit. I got up to the counter and she just stared, with a couple of tears running down her cheek. Aww, your boyfriend left your clingy, whiny ass behind? How sad. Stop crying, take my fucking money, and let me take my half-gallon of Monster and get the fuck out of here already. Do you and me a favor, stop sobbing hysterically, buy a hatchet, and go kill your new ex.

Anyway, last night I went in, got a salad and a Sobe Lifewater, which is basically sugar and water. I get up to the counter and she says, "Hey, babe. You know you can get another packet of salad dressing for free?" "Oh, yay," with all of the enthusiam I could muster. Then I made my first mistake, when I asked how she was. "Not good..." Fuck, now I have to ask why. "My house got broken into last night, while I was asleep." Instead of asking if she was alright, I said, "Did they take anything?" "$150 out of my purse." "Wow, crazy. You should get a gun," I said somewhat jokingly. "I would if I could, but I'm not allowed to." Oh, fuck, I knew it. What kind of fucked-up chick am I talking to and didn't realize? "I got a felony that comes off in 2011. Still on house arrest, but I get a work release."

Why does this always happen to me? Apparently I'm a fucked-up-chick magnet. Just something else I'm good at, I suppose.

When I got off work today, I had a plan. I bought a 12-pack of Corona with every intention of drinking them all tonight. That's when it hit me. I know what they see in me: their drunken step-dads right before they beat them. They just can't get enough.

10 reasons to just shut the fuck up.

Fucking. Seriously. I am so damn sick of hearing people bitch. Whether it's about boyfriends, girlfriends, shitty friends, the government, the economy, foreign policy, the war, your job, your boss, your bills, taxes, speeding tickets, parking tickets, seatbelt tickets, poverty, the rich, school, the neighbors, the neighbors' dog that shits in your yard and barks at night, chores, gas prices, inflation, ignorance, intelligence, abortion, welfare, unemployment, your husband's goat-play fetish, the ruffie you were slipped last week which subsequent in DP and gang-rape by your male co-workers, or the fact that you're homeless after losing your job and your wife on the same day which just so happened to be your birthday and now you expect the whole world to change just to suit your selfish, little, hopeless aspirations that no longer matter to anyone but your lonesome, pitiful self. Have I left anything out? Of course I have. Here's ten more reasons you need to just shut the fuck up, and yes, I see the irony in all of this. Which brings me to number one.

1. Pointing out the obvious to someone who is intentionally saying the shit that they're saying to make an ironic point. Did that go over your head? Big fucking surprise. That could only mean one thing: number two.

2. Either you sell shoes at Footlocker, stock shelves at Kroger, seat obese white trash at Applebee's, or run the cash register at Dillard's. Now, while all of these are prime examples of being very important, completely essential cogs in the big machine, none of it qualifies you to open your mouth about anything of any relevance to...well, fucking anything. You are not capable of calculating simple math equations without the use of a solar-powered, $2 piece of shit machinery from Big Lots. So what the fuck makes you think you understand anything at all about the economy, inflation, or even the total of your five pounder happy meal from McDonald's, you fat, stupid fuck? McDonald's, point three.

3. Why don't the seventeen-year-olds working the drive-thru say "thank you" or "have a nice day" anymore? What happened to service? What happened to respect for customers? Why don't you cry yourself to sleep, eternal sleep, after taking a bottle of downers and slitting your wrists vertically? Those selfish, apathetic kids serving your fat-fucking-ass three double cheeseburgers, large fries, and a gallon of Diet Coke don't give a fuck because minimum wage doesn't pay them to give a fuck, because their boss doesn't give a fuck, because you don't give a fuck, and because capitalist America doesn't give a fuck. So stop pretending to give a fuck, because at the end of the day, you didn't pay $5 so someone would tell you "thank you." You paid just over the cost of one gallon of gas for a whole meal, which your greasy, sausage fingers are shoveling into your big, happy mouth. Right? Number four.

4. Obesity. Stop bitching about the heat. You're fat. It's your fault. The summer is hot. The winter is not. Get used to it or move. Five.

5. Stop whining and moaning and crying and shouting about shit you did wrong. This one is much more literal and lax. Sometimes it may appear more clear, like if you wake up in a puddle of vomit and piss after a hard night of drinking, that's your fault. No issue there. No one else to blame. Not even the ruffie-slipping male co-workers. But I'm even talking about parents who bitch about their kids. You raised them. It's your fault. I don't care if they killed grandma for the inheritance. You should have beat them more. Fuck you and your spoiled, bastard kids. Fuck you Six ways to Sunday.

6. Rednecks and white trash bitch more than anyone else in America. You're poor. I know already. Guess what, motherfuckers? No one cares. Stop fucking for tax breaks, get off of welfare, and get a motherfucking job. White trash need rounded up and put into cages. Kind of like a zoo, but you wouldn't ever pay admission, and you wouldn't ever go in. And employees wouldn't feed them. And by "white trash," I mean everyone. For instance, people who pay by check and don't have it filled out by the time they reach the register, people who buy lottery tickets and scratch them off at the counter while there's a fucking line behind them, people who spend their last five on cigarettes instead of food, people who bitch about gas prices to gas station attendants, people who spend all of their money on weed and can't figure out why they can't afford their child support, people who think KFC is the shit, people who think Fazoli's is "real Italian," and people who wear fucking crocs, just to name a few. Seven.

7. Socialism. You don't understand it. You never will. Publicized health care? Don't even try to wrap your right-winged, Rush Limbaugh-brainwashed, Bill O'Reilly-loving mind around it. You're still stuck in the 1950's, blacklisting all of the pinko commies trying to do whatever it is that evil commies do, and you're so scared of "red" (ironic) working men. You wouldn't want free health care for your children? For your grandchildren? Fuck you and your selfish, small fucking brain. Unions? The United States Postal Service? American public education? Yeah, we're definitely not socialistic. This goes for anarchy as well. Eight.

8. You're right-wing? Fuck you. You're left-wing? Fuck you. You're green party? Fuck you. Fuck every last one of you ignorant, puppet tools. Please shut the fuck up. And nine.

9. Violence and sex. What the fuck is the deal? We fuck to survive. I'm not sure if anyone's picked up on that yet. I know, it's all a bit complicated, but I assure you, it's true. One man and one woman fuck, have a child, and the the cycle repeats. I think they even teach this complicated subject in junior high health class, basically just to make sure that fucking morons like us grasp the idea of repopulating. Adam and Eve weren't ashamed of being naked. They just grew older and became conservative republicans. Seeing a naked body on a movie screen is not going to scar you for life. Not knowing shit about sex until you're eighteen will. Stop fucking up your children. And violence? Jesus fucking Christ. This nation was founded on bloodshed. Read up on some history, grow some fucking balls, and shut the fuck up. Finally ten.

10. You're middle class. Not lower class. Stop bitching and just shut the fuck up. Remember the Great Depression? No, you don't. Shut the fuck up.

There you go. Ten reasons laced in thick fucking irony. I hope I singled out everyone in some way. So shut the fuck up already. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

*Oh, and a side note to the four thick-headed fucks I saw eating at Wings and Rings tonight: if you plan to order, take the menus when the waitress offers, and don't make her read through the menu herself to your inbred, white trash, shit-eating faces five seconds after she asks. You don't need to eat. You need to kill yourselves.

Fuck penance.

I don't really have the will or patience (or maybe creativity) to write anything funny about this. I'll just post the funny parts and let you laugh at that instead:

A Catholic priest in South Carolina has decided that the democratic act of casting a vote is, in some cases, a mortal sin. Therefore, he has decided that parishioners who voted for Barack Obama are not entitled to the grace of Jesus Christ through communion until they've done penance.

"Persons in this condition should not receive Holy Communion until and unless they are reconciled to God in the Sacrament of Penance, lest they eat and drink their own condemnation."

I knew this shit wouldn't stop after the elections were over.

Damnit all to fuck.

I can't find a working torrent of Repo! anywhere. Fucking movie's only playing in six theaters too. Gonna be waiting a fucking while it seems. Anyway, here's a nice little vid of the badass Paris Hilton. Tell me she's not hot. Seriously.

Fuck these condescending assholes.

Politicians get paid even when they lie. But technically, actors get paid to lie. Technically.

I generally don't like to base my opinions and beliefs on Hollywood or any of its resident estranged, pretentious whores.

If you want to vote, then vote. If you don't, then don't.

Stop letting movie stars and musicians dictate what to think.

Fuck hard liquor.

I'm done with it. All of it. No more fucking hard liquor for me. This morning about an hour before work I crawled into the bathroom and threw up half a fifth of vodka and Bloody Mary mix, and a few beers. To help paint this beautiful picture much more eloquently for you, some even came out of my fucking nose. I couldn't even tell if some of it was blood or not. So then I cleaned myself up, took a shower, took eight aspirin, and went to work like a fucking soldier.

After holding the rest down and putting up with the bright fluorescent lights and that motherfucker's annoying motherfucking stories and bullshit, I came to the conclusion that I seriously need to fucking stop. No more waking up and forgetting where my truck is. No more throwing up or hangovers. No more drunk dials. No more cleaning up my puke or being carried out of bars. No more fucking road signs. No more Everclear, Jaeger, vodka, scotch, whiskey, absinthe, tequila, and yes, no more rum or 151. I'm out. I'm done. Fuck hard liquor.

But I'm still down for a round of beers. There's no way I'd stop that shit a week before St. Patty's. I'm taking shit easy now. So be prepared.

Fuck my truck.

So, today, two days after paying a tow bill and for a new tire, which would best be described as blown-the-fuck-open, not flat, I came out to find my back passenger tire locked up from the emergency break. Nothing fucking new. I usually just gunned it and it would kick off, no problems. Not today. Today, instead, I gave it hell and nothing was working, except completely burning my fucking clutch. That worked.

Now I'm paying another tow bill, and over a grand apparently, for the clutch and the new break line. Seems a bit fucking steep to me. Then again, it wouldn't truly be my vehicle until I paid more in repairs in less than two years than what I paid to begin with. It's getting very close to being as great of a vehicle as all of the rest of pieces of shit I've had.

I came up with the idea this morning that I should drive it into a quarry. Then I realized that would be impossible since I can't shift fucking gears. But if I had it towed to the quarry, I could just push the damn thing off. Then I realized that the back wheel was locked up and I couldn't even do that. So my new idea is to set up a stack of bricks and spend all day throwing them at my fucking sorry excuse for a truck. Fuck my truck.

On a side note, some of you fucking assholes are more than welcome to sit in the cab/bed while I throw the bricks. Just a thought. Kill two birds with one stone...

Fuck this blog.

I've come to realize that all of the trivial things in life really aren't. Nothing is trivial. It all really just adds up to stereotypes and genres that everyone fits into. No one escapes a label. It's sad, but fucking true. If you think you don't, just ask someone who doesn't care what you think. I've come to find that I'm everything I've ever hated. I live in black and white. In extremes. The only line that's truly blurry is the one between pessimism and wisdom. And even that starts to clear after half a bottle of Dark Eyes.

I'm so fucking naïve. I believe in fake honesty. It's my Achilles' heel. And whether people realize it or not, they definitely take it for granted and use it to their own advantage. What the fuck compels people to walk all over me, as if they think they have something to gain by it? A fucking enemy, that's what. Truth be told, I'm full of shit. I give everyone a hard time about their beliefs, test them, and make them question themselves. But when it all comes down to it, some of the few things I believe in, I don't even have. I'm not sure how I could believe in something that I don't have, but I think they call that "blind faith." Meaning I'm a hypocrite.

I'm tired of spending my money on unneeded shit, like $3.00 a gallon for gas and going on long drives just thinking, drinking, and doing absolutely nothing. Like $4.00 beers at bars that I'm fucking sick of. Like the 12-16 cigars I fucking smoke everyday. I pretend I'm not addicted to these things, but I know I fucking am. I'm tired of putting up with people's shit, like listening to stories about how they love to brag about themselves. Like how people enjoy telling me what to do with my life. Like how people pretend to understand "the answers" to the shit I go through when they're worse than I am. I'm tired of shit resurfacing that I thought I was through with. I'm tired of shit haunting me. It's fucking killing me.

I'm tired of my parents pretending to be something they're not, like happy. Like when they act like they're decent role models and try to make me feel ashamed for being young. Like when they think they're responsible without a job, more debt than I can imagine, and don't feel guilty for alienating their own fucking family. I'm tired of their shit.

I'm sick of watching promises get broken. I'm sick of the daily fucking grind and it all amounting to jack shit. I'm sick of drama. It's getting so old so quick. I feel like I never even graduated high school and it's what I get up and go to everyday, like I never even fucking left. I'm sick of these same assholes telling me to grow the fuck up. I'm sick of feeling like my mind is that of an eighty-year-old grouchy asshole who's fed up with life and the bullshit it has to offer. I'm sick of pathetic people telling me I need to do something with my life. But trust me, not being like them is motive enough. If I really need to better myself, the best way would be to distance myself from them.

I'm sick of not having the balls to tell people to just fuck off. Or when I just stand there and listen to their bullshit and I don't kick them in the fucking groin. If I just sit there and listen, they start to think I care what they're saying, instead of a hook to the face, which would really tell them what I'm thinking. Maybe I should stop procrastinating and start fucking some people up. Maybe I should start making an effort.

Sometimes I just want to wash the world in gasoline and flick my cigar from a safe distance to watch it spread, and burn completely. Sometimes.

Well, I'm done getting hammered and being emo for the night, so eat shit.