I do like foul attitudes that have no basis in reality. I do not like anger. Or violence. Everything is tolerable in my world, until you direct any of this my way, then then THEN it is important to note, one must, I say MUST, carry a well sharpened axe, be prepared to use it and be at peace with the ramifications of such. No one, not even my parents, yell at me; fuck you is a phrase I have no problem screaming in a priests face if he were to back me into a corner. These moments in my life, where I have channeled hell, are few. Seriously, its all sunshine and daisies over here (ok, well maybe its sunshine and cyanide but that's a 50/50 split, right?).
On a normal day I appear, even to me, to be just really... off. I gots no soul, sistas, I'll cut a bitch for some candy. Just kidding (lie). I make and poke fun for my own amusement, incite mock riots when I do not get my way and rather enjoy stirring the disordered cauldron of badness (pinch of rosemary, dash of sea salt) on a fairly regular basis. I mean well, honest - I don't know, its just like a tick or something: Asshole Tourettes. This meanness is entirely different and if you are not a carp eating all the water lilies and shitting in the pond all day, you totally understand and are pleasantly amused.
You see, in my line of work, which would be living as many imaginary lives as possible, this daily spew of nonsense, that may or may not have a negative flair to it, really is a very personal purging session so that I can remain at peak delightfulness for all the angels and fairies of love that surround me.
Holy shit - that was a lot of commas for one sentence. Let’s break that down and rearrange in a more coherent fashion:
My line of work is living as many imaginary lives as possible. My daily spew of nonsense may or may not have a negative flair to it. It is really a very personal purging session. Its purpose is to keep me at peak delightfulness for all the angels and fairies of love that surround me.
Yeah, the first sentence illustrated my point far better than the chopped paragraph. Punctuation is word crack; I like semicolons best. If I could take them to bed, bind them up with rope and make them beg for mercy, my days of writing would be stimulating enough to send me into repeated orgasms upon opening a text document.
Oh, the thought.
There are so many giggles to give. I got 'em. I give 'em. See, I am trying and in spite of what has occurred this week and the horns that reappeared, temporarily, I am working my way back to peace, love and understanding (What's so funny? What's so fucking funny about me?).
In summation, I love all of the Universe’s creatures, it’s just that sometimes I think those creatures need to be euthanized.