Search

Coffee + 5 hour power = FUCKING CATS KNOCKING MY HEADPHONES OUT

WARNING: This post is insane, and more or less has nothing to do with Amazon, except this sentence... so... yep. Enjoy! This is a stream of thought post, and more or less how I write all the time, so you have a problem with swearing on your screen? LMAO... Oh you sweet Summer child you. Worst part is that I can actually see the shit swilling around, is that a problem? I guess it is, not like I'm complaining, look, all I know is that there's an issue, what's the issue? who the hell knows, all I know is that it's an issue, of what magazine? No one seems to know, all I know is what I know and at any minute, that particular issue of that particular problem is going to just go away, as will my motivation for continuing to write this particular blog post, which I- SWEAR TO FUCKING #GOD- -is probably the most #truest of #statements everywhere.

If you don't have a cat, get a #cat, live the #catlife, and you too will know just what the fuck i'm talking about, it's not so much about the constant need for exalting a primary force to the number of zero divided by the remaining factors and square roots of the total sum of the equation to find out how the fuck Bruce Jenner is living his best life. Because there is no Bruce Jenner- THERE IS ONLY #ZUUL MOTHER FUCKERS, ZUUL- And yes, I get the fact that in these weird as fuck times we're seeing some trippy ass shit, that will undoubtedly cause you to- WORSHIP YOUR NEW GOD, #PAPER OF THE #TOILET- Ironically, the only true way to worship Paper of the toilet is to wipe your ass with him or her, or it, fuck if I know, choose your own gender for a featureless, sexless, roll of toilet paper which you're now thinking kinky thoughts about. You sick #mummy obsessed bastards. I now have a cat in my lap, and you must be wondering- YOU'VE GOT TO BE WONDERING-

"What the shit happened to the posts we can actually follow!?" I'll tell you where they went. TO HELL. Along with my focus and ability to not be pissed at my cat for-

WRAPPING HER LEG AROUND THE HEADPHONE CORD AND LOOKING AT ME LIKE ITS' MY FAULT SHE'S IN #THISPREDICAMENT TO BEGIN WITH. Felines... What the utter fuck. My mind is a blank slate from which caffeine based creativity has more constipated, volcanic, violent, brain bursting old faithful geyser levels of booping than anything you could come up with. You want to know why? BECAUSE I'M SICK OF TALKING ABOUT #COVID19 THIS-

and #disease that and #quarantine all up in y'all asses!

The only thing that truly matters is the state of being through which our perceived inconveniences become our ultimate saving grace. The reason through which all reality is viewed through the lens of ultimate isolation based sacrifice by the great gods of I DON'T FUCKING CARE! Because wiping your ass with a false god and flipping off the one idiot responsible for this whole fucking thing is the more or less combative shit storm we've all come to expect from one DONALD JOHN TRUMP that feckless fuckless, zero brain celled idiot who's currently drooling like a mad cow diseased infected #hamster also with a serious bath salts addiction and-

I ran out of metaphors, this whole fucking pandemic has been that fucking crazy.

And yes, I swear, fuck, shit, damn, bitch, ass, bastard, the whole slew of reasonable and societally accepted swear words are in my vocabulary. You want to know how mind numbing trying to fucking come up with a flirt is now a days? It's just fucking easy, you know why it's easy? Because it's like, "Hey, soon as this Covid19 plague from the ninth circle of hell clears up, you want to grab a bite to eat?" And usually, they'll say yes, why? Because no one really knows when the fuck this fucking disease is going to pack its shit and get the fuck out of our lives. And we're only a few months into this thing and with ass hat screaming "EVERYONE GET BACK TO WORK, MY STOCKS ARE FAILING!" at the top of his lungs, not really caring if people die in the- GLORIOUS FUCKING PERPETUAL CHASING OF HIS GOLD BAR COVERED COCK SOCKET, I have no idea where I was going with that presumably towards some euphemism about the frailty of all life and how, no matter how hard we try to stay one step ahead of the game, the Reaper will ALWAYS collect its due.

It's a hard pill to swallow, but Death comes for all , it's one patient motherfucker. Think back to all those final Destination movies where the antagonist is fucking Death itself, seriously, think about it. No one outruns death, no one survives it, when its your time to go, it's your time to go. Now, think about all the advances in medicine and vaccines we've made in the past twenty years, we've pretty much been giving the Reaper a collective middle finger for YEARS, driving that sumbitch into its nasal cavity and flicking it around for some time, and now, patient as that motherfucker is, the people who didn't die from one thing or another are going to get reaped like a bunch of sad flowers. And yes, I ain't ignoring the fact that people ARE going to kick the fuck bucket during this plague, and that's what the shit it is, a fucking plague. People will die. Others will live. And there's going to be Anti Vaxxers who are going to catch this thing and fucking die from it, and refuse the damned Vaccine, both for themselves, and their kids, and it's going to be one fucking hilarious thing after another, because like it or not, we're all going to have to be innoculated against Covid19, and I'm sorry if you aren't able to get passed the first sentence without clicking off, but this is me, this is my style of blogging, if you have questions, I've got answers, and they are going to be the fucking answers you get from me.

So far, no cat on my lap trying to distract me, usually that's a good thing, or she might be just asleep, which is equally reassuring and pretty much on par with her plan to just give me- THE KITTY'S ELBOW FROM THE TURNBUCKLE! And yes, I jump around a LOT because I ain't one to spend a whole fucking post on one topic, what you're reading right now is a stream of thought post and one that's been overly due! Why?

I don't know, it just is, I never plan these things out, I just go with the flow and apparently, people don't like that, well,

TO HELL WITH THEM AND THEIR IMPATIENCE! HARRUMPH-

I might say if my old English wild hunter voice could be improved, actually, I've been singing to myself towards the end, middle, and beginning of shift, no reason, just something I do to help pass the time, dear god, I've got to separate all this fucking madness in editing, I just fucking realized the absolute hell I've put myself in and there is no going back, fuck.

But, it's cool, it's cool.

I've been blogging for longer then I can remember and I've got plenty of experience fucking myself into a literary corner. Sometimes, that's what it takes to become better at something, a pile of assfirst mistakes that you have to sort through in order to get to the meat and bones of the fucking thing.


I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this thing, but rest assured I give myself another two or three minutes before sanity overcomes my tired slightly cold hands and I stop writing about meandering thoughts and hsit thatp oeple don't like that I give zero fucks about BECAUSE THIS IS SPARTA I would love to say, but that's quite alright. I'm just fine and dandy and the coffee-5hp combo is going so, so, so fucking smoothly. Did you know that elephant farts count of deadly weapons? I'm not sure why that is.

7 views
 
  • Facebook

©2019 by AmazonVestLife. Proudly created with Wix.com