So I suppose if you're on this blog you must either want to read it or you're temporarily lost on the journey to some porn site. If that's the case, you are very far away from what you seek, and I wish you godspeed and good-luck in finding pornography that suites your needs as a man or woman. And I guess I should be happy if you actually want to read this shit.
Anyway, whatever the cause of you're arrival, welcome.
Now I don't believe that anyone should just scream out shit on the internet and expect people to listen to them. It's not like a Fox News political talk show where you can spout something completely asinine, where you can take a ride on the crazy tree, hit every branch on the way down and still be viewed as semi-credible and maintain some target audience that I cannot believe exists after you land on the hard land of the rational, sane world.
On the internet, however, you actually have to have some kind of merit to what utter shit you bring about, something to differentiate you from the sea of angry 13 year olds and empty souls who perpetuate their tiny existence in the form of crusty socks or endless re blogs of someone else's melodramatic pictures and Nigel Thornberry GIFS. You have to have some kind of intriguing status to take on the impossible task of getting and maintaining the attention of the most ADD generation ever raised. Basically, you have to persuade them to actually stare at your shitty free blog and not at a huge pair of tits or some video of a fat chick falling down a hill or whatever.
But who am I kidding? No one will fucking read this.
The whole reason people like the internet is because they don't have to be people and so that they can pretend to be much smarter, wittier the they actually are.
More often then not they attempt to prove to no one that they can be more aggressive and just genuinely shittier people because they hide behind some electronic mask. I'm no different. I'm a shitty person with shitty opinions, and if people like them, they like them, and if they don't they wont read this blog and I'll get bored and stop and go back to life or find something equally as pointless to take up time in this greasestained void that has become my thoroughly mediocre existence.
I'll cover shit that makes me angry, shit that makes me sad, and shit that makes me happy. Probally much more pissed and depressed than happy. The internet is not a happy place. It's not a happy place, it's a testament to how fucked up and beautiful and pointless and absurd with the disgusting anonymity of a shit-pantsed-rubbed-on-walled Walmart bathroomstall.
If you want to, come along for the ride.
"I don't have much to say, but I'll say it anyway."