(no subject)
you know what pisses me off? well, quite a lot of things actually, but you know what pisses me off right at the moment and on other select occasions? weak chined slope browed meek as watered-down soy milk pussboys. that's right. i am not exactly what you'd call a men's man, as i sense some of you are beginning to snicker at my comment. but for people who have crossed my path and looked at me in the eyes, there is little question who the alpha male of the gathering is. there is very little question in those people's minds that if they provide me with the slightest provocation, i will have no problem pounding them into the pavement right then and there and dance on their shattered skulls afterwards.
but man, some of those 98 lb weakling mama's boys make me want to puke up yesterday's breakfast. all i hear is oooh, i am so sad girls don't like me; why don't you like me, i am so non-threatening i make gandhi want to strangle himself!!! oooh i am so sad that people laugh at my twig like arms and pencil neck, ooh but i am such a nice boy, i like to talk for long hours, i like to snuggle, i like to gaze up in your eyes and compare them to stars, and ooh, ooh, ooh, did i mention i am a very good listener???!! look at my sad sad drooping eyes, i am like lost puppy dog!!! love me! love me! damn it you are not even looking at me!
what is it then, did those boys spent too much time tie to the apron string of their mothers? did they get the violence don't solve anything speech one too many times? slept in their parents bed for too many years? got breast fed too long? did they go run and hide behind the mother hen's protective skirt every time someone bared their teeth in their direction?
seriously, put the anniversary edition of sound of music down and watch some espn once in a while. grow some fucking balls before i punch you in the throat, take your lunch money just for fun and sent you running back in tears to curl up in a fetal position by your mommy's bed.
but man, some of those 98 lb weakling mama's boys make me want to puke up yesterday's breakfast. all i hear is oooh, i am so sad girls don't like me; why don't you like me, i am so non-threatening i make gandhi want to strangle himself!!! oooh i am so sad that people laugh at my twig like arms and pencil neck, ooh but i am such a nice boy, i like to talk for long hours, i like to snuggle, i like to gaze up in your eyes and compare them to stars, and ooh, ooh, ooh, did i mention i am a very good listener???!! look at my sad sad drooping eyes, i am like lost puppy dog!!! love me! love me! damn it you are not even looking at me!
what is it then, did those boys spent too much time tie to the apron string of their mothers? did they get the violence don't solve anything speech one too many times? slept in their parents bed for too many years? got breast fed too long? did they go run and hide behind the mother hen's protective skirt every time someone bared their teeth in their direction?
seriously, put the anniversary edition of sound of music down and watch some espn once in a while. grow some fucking balls before i punch you in the throat, take your lunch money just for fun and sent you running back in tears to curl up in a fetal position by your mommy's bed.