1 May, 2012
Can I talk my shit again?
It’s only right to try and cause a little mayhem on May Day, right? As of late, I’ve subsided the slander of struggling, simpleton strumpets, but my hankering for humiliating whor-ific heathens has gotten the best of me once again.
So, here we are. Hindering the happiness of the hopeless, huh? Fuck it. Cover me, I’m going in.
Consider this an all-out onslaught on you ornery outcasts.
I’m talking about you over-saturated, orange faced photo flicking floozies who haphazardly look like you used brake lights for a camera flash.
It’s bleak out here for you.
You young-minded misfits will never be happy until you find out what you want in life… And most of you are still too busy getting dicked down by assholes and being fake mad about it to realize what that is.
This movie, Think Like A Man, based off of that Steve Harvey book has some dumb girls completely discombobulated mentally. Now, I’ve personally never viewed this movie. I have way too many more important things to do prior to that (mainly, anything other than that.) My point is, ladies, do you honestly think by thinking like a man, you’ll be able to gain some upper hand over men, who have been thinking like men their entire lives? Yes? Well, here’s a tidbit I’d like to share: you “Think Like A Man” chicks are still getting fucked like hoes!
Oh, now that’s just rude.
What are the keys to turning your forsaken, hapless, husbandless future around, you ask?
You bitches have to stop appearing so miserable! Complain a little less. Report yourself as spam on social networks. Read real books. Watch less MTV. Eat more Nutella. Wash behind your ears.
Get your ass out the mirror, you could meet somebody!
Do those things and maybe, just maybe some man will want to caress you. I’m sure that’s preferred over the vacuum cleaner hickies you’ve left yourself over the years.
Nah, I’m not even going to lie to you. The real reason that loneliness has been lurking amidst every nook and cranny of your lives is because most of you are boring.
Really. And I don’t have the slightest clue of how to cure that. The combination of pretending to like ESPN, throwing the head regularly and cooking well is the best go-to remedy known at this time. Best of luck.
All in all, I do want you hopeless chicks to find someone to enjoy life with across the board. Not necessarily because I care, but so you quit uploading Instagram photos of your dogs everyday. Holy fucking Moly, to only see all of you knock that shit off would be a dream come true. Too bad I know it’ll never happen. Damn, now I know how you chicks feel when you think about marriage. Welp.
P.S. If she has YOLO in her Twitter bio, forbid any of your close friends or loved ones from associating with her as if she was Elephant’s Graveyard from the Lion King.