With the modern turmoil that surrounds our economy, I have taken notice to a small grouping of words that is constantly being bantered back and forth amongst us dreamers and thinkers; IN A PERFECT WORLD.
Even though I almost completely lack listening comprehension unless the topic being spoken is one about me, I did actually notice that after the above mentioned saying is voiced, people then speak of what would make their world, in fact, perfect.
Now to give you an idea of how worthless I am, if our present form of currency was toilet paper, I would have a bright red shit rash on my ass right now. But that doesn't mean that I am not eligible to share with you bags of balls my perfect world. Now, my perfect world is not really one that envelops all living beings. Just mine. (see what i mean by self-centered!!!!)
AAAHHHH!!!!!(stretching in preparation) Let's Begin.
I'm going to paint a picture for you. A picture so magical and breath-taking that you will masturbate to it every single day of your remaining life and teach your children to follow suit with passion and vigor. My Home will make Bruce Wayne's home in Batman (the one with Michael Keaton) look like a fucking shanty that was constructed by Helen Keller and some guy with no arms. Also, I will have a set of powers that make the combination of, The Force, Superman's powers, and all The Fantastic Four's powers look like a shitty card trick. Now my personal wealth will have Bill Gates trimming my toenails with his teeth and drinking my urine straight from my penis. (NO HANDS I SAID!) I addition to these minor embellishments on my life, I also believe that I have the sweet remote control that Adam Sandler (what a fucking bitch) used in that fucking visual abomination of a movie (Click). Obviously without all the bad parts. Also, I do feel Christopher Walken is a cool guy, but because he took that role in that movie, I feel in my perfect world that I will be allowed to legally kill him. Night night Deer Hunter.
Moving on. I will have the ability to have absolute control of the weather. If I want it to pour freezing cold rain over a single person no matter where they go, then it shall be! I decide who wins the fucking Lotto! My motorcycle will change shape, color, sound, and ride quality according to my mood at that moment. If there is a traffic jam on the road, it is perfectly acceptable for my friends and I to drive Monster Trucks over your fucking petty, minuscule forms of transportation.
YAWN! I'm going to have to continue tomorrow, but I am going to add below a little unfinished piece of writing that Rocket liked. So here's a little bonus.
Rocket's Bonus story:
I have a serious problem with keeping a few things to myself. Now before I get started, I am sharing with everyone that I am a worthless excuse for a human being and if anyone of my readers disagrees with anything that I put into a blog, remember I don't even like myself!
I do not like anyone that starts "small-talk" with me. Leave me the FUCK alone. I was getting gas in my truck today and I was dressed in my work clothes which means I looked like a fat, uneducated, piece of dirty, loser, white trash. Now I already am upset just because of my physical appearance alone. Unfortunately, my anger was not allow to solely feed off of my own self-loathing. A complete fucking parasite looked over towards me and at this very instant I knew this fucking scummy, jerky breathed, Nascar watching, "tricked-out" 1995 Dodge Neon driving, Judge Judy watching, Bills Super Bowl shirt wearing creep was going to feel the need to shit out a bunch of poorly enunciated, garbled, words towards me in hopes of starting a "conversation" that would make even Corky Thatcher's I.Q plummet. I now present to you this verbal exchange.
Shit-Bag: "Better fill-up before the weather gets bad."
Me: (Silence)
Shit-Bag: "Had enough of this winter?"
Me: (Silence)
Shit-Bag: "It's gonna get cold tonight." (Keep in mind it's 19 degrees when Shit-Bag is telling me this)
Me: "I wish I was deaf."
Shit-Bag: "HA HA HA. Me too! But only when my wifes talking!..........Or my Boss! HA HA HA
Me: "Please stop talking to me."
Shit-Bag: "What's the matter? Rough Day?"
Me: "I wish you were fucking burning to death."
Shit-Bag: "Hey buddy, watch it!"
Me: "If you utter one more word, I'm going to your mother's trailer park and raping her."
SCENE
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You are one funny guy, offensive, but damn funny. Did you know there's a female version of your blog? http://mattscanlonsucks.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteIt's called The Adventures of Being Mental. If you lived closer to each other (she's in Mass.)
I'd say you were a match made in heav...Hell...Hell!