I hope you’re happy.

Posted: November 13, 2011 in otiose
Tags: , , , ,

How many people have accidentally clogged their toilets with damar varnish?
Should I pour solvent down there?
It’s in the carpet, too.

I didn’t even paint anything.
That’s the tricky part.

Don’t worry. My plunger solved everything
except for the deep seated psychological trauma
that woke me up to damar varnish oozing into the carpet in the first place.

For some reason I’ve combined my disdain for most musicals
with the joys of chopping up ten-year-old girls and stringing them into
marionette sex puppets.

I think it’s best not to ask, and I should probably delete that.


I wish my parents had taught me how to tactfully tell people to leave me the fuck alone.
No, I don’t want to sit with your family for Thanksgiving.
No, I don’t want to watch your shitty little dog again.
No, I’m not going to shave it off for you.


What do I have to say to get it to sink in?
Blunt honesty doesn’t seem to do it.

I really do want to spend “The Holidays” alone.
It’s not my responsibility to recommend someone else to you who might want to watch your fucking dog.
There are plenty of bald, freshly powdered and painted whores out there who would be more than willing to leave quietly with all of your money in the middle of the night.

I don’t want to wake up remembering anymore.
I don’t care if you’re better than me.
Good for you.
Why the fuck do you consider it worth your time to remind me?

Do you need a response that fucking badly?
I’ve responded.

Tactless as usual.

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