Bah!
Fucking stupid alcoholism. What a shitty thing my ex wife left me with. Well, not just her, there was all my childhood trauma/drama all that fucking bullshit leading up to the miserable abusive relationship followed by the bitter sad divorce (yes yes I still love her yada yada fuck my subconscious mind.)
And now here I am. Magically cured by the Power of Prayer! Oh wait scratch that, I actually thought I was a fucking Hindu WHILE I was an alcoholic thank you very much, and all these fucking holier-than-thou fuckwits who I'm supposed to pay lip service to because I'm "just a poor weak sinner like them" can KISS MY ASS. Because you know what? I was fucking ABUSED. My whole fucking life, starting when I was a goddamned infant. And NO, it wasn't my fucking fault. What WAS my fault was being such a goddamn pussy that I tried to off myself with slow poison for 20 fucking years. So FUCK God, FUCK AA, FUCK all the hypocritical MOTHERFUCKERS who "just wanted me to heal" and AREN'T HERE TODAY, because they can all go to fucking hell and suck my glorious punk rock dick. Because I FUCKING QUIT DRINKING. I FUCKING GOT OVER MY SHIT, BY MYSELF, WITHOUT ANY FUCKING HELP. Big Boys Don't Cry, fuckheads. People tried to help me sure, but I didn't accept that help. The only fucking HELP I could fucking accept was the same fucking HELP that made me drink in the goddamned first place: GETTING FUCKING ABUSED BY ASSHOLES MORE POWERFUL THAN ME. Getting thrown in jail and fucking realizing that I had two choices: Keep drinking so I could get some nice fat gang rape up my ass with a nice slice of murderotica thrown in to cap it all off at the end, posssibly some disease, maybe some fucking children, oh hell I could drag my family into it with me etc etc etc all the fucking looping intestines of STRANGLING HISTORY OF FUCKING ABUSE THANKS GRANDMA YOU FUCKING EVIL BITCH AND WHOEVER FUCKED YOU OVER BEFORE THAT!
Or I could do the hard thing. Grow. The. Fuck. Up.
So I did.
But seriously, about that ass kissing and sucking of the aforementioned punk rock prong? I don't really give a shit about any of that because I'm not that much of a dick after all, and that's kind of the point.
So yup, I'm pretty not pissed off about anything anymore, not all weepy eyed and shit. I mean, it's nice to get me going in the morning and shit but at the end of the day I'm a pretty cool, confident motherfucker. Oh snap.
And now here I am. Magically cured by the Power of Prayer! Oh wait scratch that, I actually thought I was a fucking Hindu WHILE I was an alcoholic thank you very much, and all these fucking holier-than-thou fuckwits who I'm supposed to pay lip service to because I'm "just a poor weak sinner like them" can KISS MY ASS. Because you know what? I was fucking ABUSED. My whole fucking life, starting when I was a goddamned infant. And NO, it wasn't my fucking fault. What WAS my fault was being such a goddamn pussy that I tried to off myself with slow poison for 20 fucking years. So FUCK God, FUCK AA, FUCK all the hypocritical MOTHERFUCKERS who "just wanted me to heal" and AREN'T HERE TODAY, because they can all go to fucking hell and suck my glorious punk rock dick. Because I FUCKING QUIT DRINKING. I FUCKING GOT OVER MY SHIT, BY MYSELF, WITHOUT ANY FUCKING HELP. Big Boys Don't Cry, fuckheads. People tried to help me sure, but I didn't accept that help. The only fucking HELP I could fucking accept was the same fucking HELP that made me drink in the goddamned first place: GETTING FUCKING ABUSED BY ASSHOLES MORE POWERFUL THAN ME. Getting thrown in jail and fucking realizing that I had two choices: Keep drinking so I could get some nice fat gang rape up my ass with a nice slice of murderotica thrown in to cap it all off at the end, posssibly some disease, maybe some fucking children, oh hell I could drag my family into it with me etc etc etc all the fucking looping intestines of STRANGLING HISTORY OF FUCKING ABUSE THANKS GRANDMA YOU FUCKING EVIL BITCH AND WHOEVER FUCKED YOU OVER BEFORE THAT!
Or I could do the hard thing. Grow. The. Fuck. Up.
So I did.
But seriously, about that ass kissing and sucking of the aforementioned punk rock prong? I don't really give a shit about any of that because I'm not that much of a dick after all, and that's kind of the point.
So yup, I'm pretty not pissed off about anything anymore, not all weepy eyed and shit. I mean, it's nice to get me going in the morning and shit but at the end of the day I'm a pretty cool, confident motherfucker. Oh snap.