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Sunday, September 04, 2005

 

Fuckin' Fuck!

God fucking dammit.

So, as if things in this country aren't fucked up enough, what with the calamity and the colossal fuck-ups in the Gulf; what with the war in Iraq continuing to eat up money and young people's lives; what with the president's right-wing Supreme Court nominee going in front of the Senate on his way to a probable slam-dunk of a confirmation...as if things weren't bad enough with all that, now fucking Rehnquist dies and gives Bush and his fascist fuckbags another opportunity to load the court up with bible-thumping idealogues.

Son of a fucking bitch.

So what else? What the hell else is going to go completely fucking wrong? I guess now humankind will spontaneously develop ass-warts on a global scale. Or maybe fucking Al Quaeda will launch a series of attacks on petroleum processing plants to drive up the price of gas some more. Or perhaps Paul Simon, David Mamet and John Irving will all kick off on the same day.

Miserable goat-humping ball sniffers!

This is just too much. I've been in a funk for days now and, apparently, the universe isn't going to be happy until it drives me to strap a fucking engine block to my ankles and dive off the Brooklyn Bridge. Good news? Could we please, please, pretty please with fucking chocolate frosting on top, get some good fucking news?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! I think that bears repeating:
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

Seriously, is Pat Robertson's every wish starting to come true? Is the CIA now gonna go bump off Chavez down in Venezuela just to make Robertson's year complete? Sweet merciful nose-picking Christ, this sucks.

I need good news. Please? Something? Anything?

Crap.

Comments:
Uhm...Fats Domino survived?
 
Let me think. George W. is still and even more ridiculous, but that hasn't changed much. And hasn't helped the people of New Orleans. Germany has lost the soccer game against Slovakia. So what? I'm back from holiday. Hmmmmmm. That sucks, I can't find anything.
 
Good news? I always enjoy reading you. You always tend to vocalize my thoughts. You make me happy, and that should make you happy too? hmmm...maybe not, but I'm trying....
 
This is one of the most emotionally limpid things ever writen. You need to get your money back from that therapist.
 
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