Screwing Up Someone’s Newspaper Is Fun

Everyone likes a newspaper. Wait, that’s not true because you are all too busy blabbering on the Internet to actually fucking do anything like learn, so now you have to come here so I can tell you to fuck off and read somewhere else.

It’s a strange thing to do for a blog, isn’t it? I have to sit here for fear that I might upset you. It’s my only good play, and I am not much in a sporting mood, and if I were, that sport would be hunting.

I don’t often talk to myself on this blog. If you have been paying attention, this blog is about you for a change.

This is what a newspaper is; a conglomeration of resources designed to inform you. It is not “your morning newspaper” that you go to the mailbox every day so you can get agitated about shit you won’t do anything to fix. Fuck you. It is your link to the outside world because you cannot drive everywhere at once to go see everything. Not only is that not a good thing to do because it’s a waste of fucking time and gasoline, it’s like asking to go to the Sun to see the moon. It is unnecessary, and it is why that gas sticker is freaking you out. It’s because YOU want to go everywhere except where you really are.

You are only trying to escape your own house because you are unsatisfied. That is as plain as I can make it. You think you own the road, and I know this because you are a bad driver, as I have noted before. You run all around and around and you get dizzy from the sight of everything. This is called not being not able to see, and you should take your fucking wish to go blind to an amusement park where that stupid shit belongs, because those are fun but the world is not your fucking amusement park. My house is not your playground, and neither is my road. I have been to too many places where death and destruction takes place all because someone graded a road into it.

I will be your newspaper, if you’d like. I spent a lot of time on Facebook and that was a good newspaper until I found out that there are no journalists on it, just the same assholes you’ve been friends with your whole life, and it comes as no surprise that you are an asshole. I know this because you go to reunions and say shit like “Oh, Meredith! You haven’t changed a bit!”

That is your problem. You don’t seem to change much, and you are still an asshole. I don’t have an explanation for this yet. I’ll find one for you soon. I think I can put my finger on bad parenting as the problem, but only you can figure that out. Everyone is a bad parent, because they are too busy doing other things that are probably a waste of time, like running around the world like you own it. No. You are renting. That is how nature works, she can make you and take you just like your sick mother.

So anyway, I dumped the Facebook yearbook and go to Huffington Post instead and I find you in there again, making assertions of fact in politics that you cannot prove because you don’t know what you are talking about. I hope I fucked up your day if I found you being stupid in there. I find you with plenty of interests, politically speaking. There are plenty of anti-social websites like Facebook that ask you what your interests are, and you, an asshole with no clue what reality is, put in a few. You probably get all frustrated that you don’t have enough space to get them in. This upsets you for some reason.

Well, all I can say, is that the problem with you is that you are not interesting, and that is why you scream at everybody, “these are my interests! I am interested in things. I am interesting because I am interested”.

No. You are only interested in your interests and that is why you are a moron and you will die wondering why everything turned out so bad.

You should have read your newspaper, because your family members are in the obituary. But you only look for people you are interested in, and that is why the newspaper is so bad. Eat your newspaper, it probably has some fiber you are most likely lacking.

About The Head Seminarian

I might be the nicest person you'll ever meet, but if you don't believe me, that is because I hate you. I went to war, I went to father, I came, I saw, and it is a mess. I wouldn't have it any other way. Shitty people amuse me, people who act like human volcanoes fascinate me like fine art. Life is beautiful, and it is under attack in a manner heretofore unseen in history. I came to remind you of this, not make it worse. I might be writing a blog. Yes, that's all I am doing, now that I think about it. If you have a bad memory, you will forget this. Even I forget sometimes, so we're cool.

Posted on January 19, 2011, in postaday2011, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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