Here’s A Realistic Song About Junkies, I Say Realistic Because It Doesn’t Glorify It Or Belittle

Chi non beve in compagnia o e un ladro, e una spia, He who doesnt drink in company is either a thief or a spy

All Things Remain Much the Same

You know what I LOVE about reformed junkies and what not?  even without the junk they’re still awesome at only talking about themselves, their problems, and things relating to them, its good to know suckin ya own metaphoric dick aint contingent on a needle.  They’ve learned alot...through Jesus....

( dies laughing )

Talking Heads // Girlfriend Is Better

Call Me Israel Hands

I think I ACTUALLY drink more rum than a pirate.  I don’t think pirates had a 5th+ rationed to them a day, every day.  Thats how you know you’re a drinker, not when you lose your job, when your wife leaves and the kids call mommys new boyfriend gary dad.  You know you’re a drinker when you put down a 5th and say ok, now whens the real buzz start?

Scientology: Really?! C’mon...

- Xenu kidnaps us

- dumps us in volcano, vacuums up our souls

- puts us in a false reality

- we escape into monkeys

- Tom Cruise

Are you, are you fuckin kidding me?  Hubbard lived on a boat with a bunch of little boys, wrote really terrible scifi novels, and got laughed right the fuck out of the scientific and medical community for a reason.

- pay money to learn the secrets ( we all now know )

- get to OT whatever the fuck for well over a million dollars

- get told the ultimate secret is that you were you all along but needed the other steps to shed away the not you to find the you, now go live your life ( no refunds )

No one can speak out now that you know, its 75% lawyers coincidentally.  Oops, Sue me Scientology, I don’t have any money, stalk me, I’m a lonely guy i could use the company, Harass my family, i dont have much anyways.  Of all the religions that are a lie, of all the cults that are goofy as all fuck, you guys really take the space cake, you even got Mormons goin like, what the fuck dude?!

Dream Journals

I’ve decided to start writing dreams down, so I might as well take up space here with em, some will be old dreams I remember still, some will be new dreams, just dreams, the only time we’re honest with ourselves and therefore the most honest i can be with you ( not that my 3 day old tumblr has alot of readers yet )

October 15th or something:  Fell asleep drunk watching the walking dead, dreamed I was being attacked by cops, it was a good ol time for a while til i was overwhelmed.  They’re run up, id stab them in the heart, another would come, stab, etc, eventually there was too many to stab and i ran, pretty self explanatory really, dreams are half subconscious mind and half replaying what we’ve seen experienced that day.  Now if i had that dream on say a Bahama vacation, well, worry then

I never could think of prostitutes as human beings or even as women. They seemed more like imbeciles or lunatics. But in their arms I felt absolute security. I could sleep soundly. It was pathetic how utterly devoid of greed they really were. And perhaps because they felt for me something like an affinity for their kind, these prostitutes always showed me a natural friendliness which never became oppressive. Friendliness with no ulterior motive, friendliness stripped of high pressure salesmanship, for someone who might never come again. Some nights I saw these imbecile, lunatic prostitutes with the halo of Mary. I went to them to escape from my dread of human beings, to seek a mere night of repose, but in the process of diverting myself with these 'kindred' prostitutes, I seem to have acquired before I was aware of it a certain offensive atmosphere which clung inseparably to me... I had, quite objectively speaking, passed through an apprenticeship in women at the hands of prostitutes, and I had of late become quite adept. The odor of ' lady killer ' had come to permeate me...I remembered now clumsily written letters from bar girls...with all of them I had been extremely negative and it had gone no further. But it was an undeniable fact, and not just some foolish delusion on my part, that there lingered about me an atmosphere which could send women into sentimental reveries. It caused me a bitterness akin to shame to have this pointed out by someone like Horiki; at the same time, I lost all interest in prostitutes

Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human

Search Rant on Tumblr

My blog is going to be nothing but ranting basically, but i LOVE reading other peoples rants, and how fuckin unimportant the shit they care about is.  Gays and Lesbians crying about microgressions on how theyre genderfluid and not some other made up word or whatever stupid bullshit their special club comes up with.

Weebs bitching about Anime, Housewives bitching about their favorite fictional characters beings killed off from their faggy where has my life gone housewife shows.  Fat girls crying about sexual harassment, who you kiddin honey, you WISH you were being sexually harassed, hell so do I.  Yes I called you honey sugartits, cry about it on your blog.

Oh this ones my favorite ( and once i get some followers im sure the comment flames will be epic ) people bitching about people bitching in their comments about posts bitching about things. Though I’m bitching about people bitching about people bitching at their bitching, lifes all very grey area-ish.  No the stranger online didnt like you or what you had to say, no one on the internet or any other medium likes you either, hang yourself, I’ll teach you how to tie the noose if you want, start by putting the rope down like an “S” then you take one end and start wrapping it around...