Flat face, I share this trait
With a face so flat
I like the way you tuck your trousers
Into your socks like that.
Shaking hands, concealing pills
When I see the police
I, too, feel the thrill.
What a herd, what companions
You all look the same
Dogs walking dogs
So cool, much amaze.
So poetic and graceful
Billy Shakez just quivers
In his grave. Read more
I’m just trying to find a friend that I can kick back with.
Maybe listen to Fleetwood Mac for hours whilst getting shit done. Write music. Sing songs with so much passion at the top of our lungs and convince ourselves we wrote them.
Or take some mescaline (thanks, Kurt) and see who can come up with the wildest stories (whilst listening to Jeff Buckley) and draw. Stare at the ceiling and talk about literally everything. Rant and talk shit about the people we hate. Tell them my struggles and not be judged or ridiculed or ignored. Someone who will be there whether it’s 4pm or 4am.
I want to be high as hell when I tell them something that’s bothering me, and they’ll be high as yike defending me to the death and coming up, in the utmost seriousness, with an elaborate plan to kill whoever pissed me off. And we’ll both believe it’ll happen even though later on we’ll laugh about it. But they weren’t joking and I’d have to stop them from doing something insane.
Reserve Sundays for formula 1, obviously.
It’s me. I’m describing myself.
You know what’s shit? When you miss the Optimum Nutrition black Friday deal.
I’m gonna talk about advice-giving. Advising?
I don’t like giving advice. Because a) I don’t care, b) I can’t deal with strangers who cry and c) you won’t listen anyway. This is how the human brain works; people want ‘advice’, but what they’re really looking for is their own opinion wrapped up and fed to them in a caramel latte. I don’t believe in this.
Let me give you a preview of my self-proclaimed world class advice. This sample is relationship heavy because, let’s face it, 90% of people are looking for relationship advice. Here you go, friends.
Me: buzzfeed is the worst website on the planet
Also me: OF COURSE I WANT TO KNOW MY AGE BASED ON A WEIRD FOOD TEST
GOOD MORNING AND WHAT A TIME TO BE PISSED OFF! This is what I really call a good morning.
So, I admit I use buzzfeed a lot – but never for actual news. Going to buzzfeed for real news is stupid; I use it for actual stupid things. But I saw something that intrigued me.
The headline was “A Teen Magazine has Apologised for Calling a Rape Victim a ‘Willing Player'”; I was interested because I knew she probably wasn’t raped, and she probably was a willing player.
And I was right.
Moving on from the last post, and my argument begins.
I’ve discussed the situation in which a man must take blame one hundred percent in every single aspect, the sober coward that attacks a woman just because he’s a dirty piece of shit. But many girls are at a party, getting so drunk they can’t see what’s in front of them, so they say yes to anything.
Alcohol is the main perpetrator in rape cases; the victim can’t remember anything, the jury decides that she was too intoxicated to give consent and the rapist, with the same blood alcohol content, is imprisoned. Like this, the Stanford victim said she couldn’t remember a thing because she drank too much [her own mistake], and the rapist said they kissed and danced, which they probably did, and she gave the impression that she liked it. Ultimately, she cannot remember giving him consent – she may have done, she just can’t remember it. She obviously wasn’t sober enough to fight him off, like her sister had done, as she couldn’t handle her liquor. So, I’m not talking about the drunk women who are dragged away and forcibly raped. This is about the ones who are too drunk to ‘give proper consent’. Do you still not see the problem?