I'll Be Happy When I'm Dead

i’d like to know: what was it that made me the biggest piece of shit on the planet?

Man, I need a teatnus shot because all these rusty nails are giving me.. lockjaw?

Shit, that suicked.

fucktheskytwiceuptheass replied to your photo: A typical picture of me at every party at Purdue…

I love you

I love you too bro. (I call guys and girls “bro” so it’s OK. I mean, I’d assume you’re a guy because there’s no gogdamn way a girl would ever want to admit that with regards to me, but thanks!)

Why does Chivas Regal give me a boner?

Welp, that didn’t last.

Mum wanted to go to Longhorn for dinner, and if you don’t think I’m going to fill myself with Raspberry Lynchburg Lemonades then fuck you. It was my first taste of whisky in five days and dear lord. Oh my god, can I marry a whisky distillery? Jesus, I love the taste whisky. Their margaritas are fantastic as well.

I ordered salmon with a side of veggies while mum got filet mignon with side potato, but some auxiliary waitress handed them to us backwards. Am I the only person on the planet who isn’t sexist? I am a man and I like to eat healthy, OK? Before tonight, the only drinks I had this week were that Stella, a coke and shit loads of water and green tea. See? Healthy.

On the drive back mum pointed out a pub and told me she threw up there.

Hey, you. Yes, you in the pigtails and flannel top. You’re very pretty. Pigtails are very nice and so are flannel tops, but together it’s exponentially better than the addition of either one. More so, add a cowgirl hat and I might exlpode on...

Hey, you. Yes, you in the pigtails and flannel top. You’re very pretty. Pigtails are very nice and so are flannel tops, but together it’s exponentially better than the addition of either one. More so, add a cowgirl hat and I might exlpode on sight.

This girl has the same body as my last love, Alianna. OK, I might not remember the face too well (who really rememebrs or cares for the face of a stripper? She did have super long hair down to her waist I think?) but everything below the neck is at least geometrically a doppelganger and they both have a lil’ bit of a lisp. Alianna was paler and had a lovely patch of freckels on her back, but everything else was the same. Same boobs, tummy, butt and gams.

 I know this is the randomest weirdo thing ever, but even the belly button was a match. I had never seem an outie in real life, but there she was rubbing it, poking me in the eyes and mouth. I thought of it as a third nipple, only closer to her “pleasure dome” and I found it pretty hot. 

Strippers normally make my Wilhelm do nothing, but she made mine go to a full salute (at least as best as mine could with this yaw problem) and I got two dances from her. I have obnly gotten eight dances in my life, two were from Alianna. She made everything work just rightly.

I have no idea where this is going, but I cropped out her nethers for the pic above. Why? I mean I have posted a picte of ron Swanson covered in shit and holding his cock, yet I have never posted a vag?

I have way too much sexual guilt. Maybe if someone /ayone (please?) wanted to fuck me or found me to be a sexual viable candidate, I wouldn’t be, but until then, you’ll be gettin’ dick.

Jessu, someone kill me.

Ok, confirmend, Sissiy Spacked did NOT wear that outift on the cover from the DVD of Prime Cut, BUT you saw a whole lotta bush, so it doesn’t really matter.

Super petite, 5'2" ladies from Texas shall be the death of me. Sissy, Holly Hunter, my only love, and I’m sure every single one of you would do it to me as well. Shit. 

One night at the end of my senior year at Purdue a friend and I did our Friday / Saturday night routine and went to dinner at TGI Friday’s. I got the chicken parm sliders. After dinner, we went back to his house where one of his roommates (Who was also a great friend, the only person I hung out with all 8 semesters. Wow, I’m pathetic.) was hosting a banana daiquiri party. I don’t care much for bananas so this other friend handed me over the bottle of single malt.

Two of my dear friends (Anne and Jen) showed up, and the three of us went to the couch and did what we did best together, make fun of the host friend and all of his pretentiousness. After one banana daiquiri a piece for them and a single scotch on the rocks for myself, they couldn’t handle the pretentiousness and despite all my begging, left. I was sad and alone at the couch, so I started pounding triples.

Then we headed off to our favorite hipster bar for a disco dance party and met up with some other friends. By now, the scotch had hit me and it put me in that lovely place for dancing. I danced viciously for our hour there and even got a couple old-fashioneds so I didn’t dry out. (One of my better memories here was the little red-headed cutie from Montana, Suzy Sullivan, asking me how I was doing “bro.”) I was in high spirits. Host friend and yet another friend then decided to go to this shitty burger place / diner before we ended our night.

As we walk in and then take a seat out the counter, the smell of the grease knocks me out. All my food is ordered, but my head is implanted in the counter. Finally, I wake up just before they are about to leave and say I need to go outside. I open the door and projectile vomit just as four other kids are on their way inside. Mind you, I don’t hit them. My friends come out, and I tell them I’m better. We walk to the car and I puke at my feet. I notice it is solid red. The chicken parm sliders. I get in the car, they drive me to my studio, one of them helps me up the stairs to my room, puts my untouched burger and fries in the fridge and then I pass out. I wake up the next day unable to eat anything, but no hangover. The burger sucked.

That was the last time I threw up… until about a half hour ago.

It makes for a much better story than:

I was depressed, I drank, I watched The Apartment in my parents’ basement, I cried, I drank some more, I passed out in my bed, I woke up 7 hours later due to some horrid nightmares and threw up… all by myself.