I just don’t know what to do with myself. Jack White said it first, but I say it better. And I mean it. I actually don’t know what to do with myself. He’s loaded and adored the world over and shit. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. I can’t. I’m too poor and unloved to be able to do anything. I just sit and Google myself whilst crying onto my erection, hoping that one day I will have a woman to cry onto my erection for me. At least I think that’s how sex is done, anyway. It’s been a while. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the girl crying onto my erection and then something about a pie? I’m going to be honest with you. I’ve forgotten. I’ll just move along. This isn’t what I want to talk to you about today. Oh no!
What I wanted to talk to you about is anyone’s guess, to be honest. I just need to talk at someone and nobody is here to be talked at and nobody online will reply to my talking ats. But even if they did reply, I don’t know what I would talk at them. I know what I want to talk, but I don’t want to talk that at just anyone because it’s my own private talk and it is only for certain people to have at them. this is getting weird. I’m saying too many weird things. I’ve spent too much time depressed and self-loathing and looking at photographs of crabs smoking fags.
Pretty good, eh? It’s only a temporary fix though. Not the fag for the crab. The crab with the fag for me. But the fag for the crab is the crabs own temporary fix, I guess. But anyway, before long there will be no-more animals doing people things that have been unseen by these human eyes. There will be no more dog’s mowing the law.
There will be no more cats waiting up for their cheating wives to get back from ‘working late at the office.’
No more monkey night-walkers.
No more immigrant hamsters sweeping the homes of the wealthy Englishmen to make a quick buck to feed their illegal immigrant kids.
No more Panda getaway drivers.
And no more of this:
I have forgotten why I started to make this list of animal-people. Ah yes! Because I’ve nearly seen them all and then I have to deal with the reality of getting my ‘life in order’ and dealing with my ’emotions’. God-damn you, anybody! God-damn you to heck!
I’m going to have a cup of tea and finish putting this burfday card together (it should have been done last week, but remember what I was telling you about being depressed and self-loathing and the crab with the fag? Yeah, that happened.) But I do not have to justify myself to you, as the card isn’t even for you! Fudge yourself.