This post goes out to the cum-guzzling, fuck-face, turd-munching, sack of shit, meth-head who stole my bike lock and battery charger. Your mother would have been far better off swallowing you than spreading her legs to allow your genetic material to replicate into the epic waste of skin you’ve become. I feel dirty and embarrassed to walk the same planet you exist on, and I feel tainted to breathe from the same atmosphere that sustains you’re worthless ass. Fuck you!
I get the lock thing – it’s a high quality, heavy-duty cable, and the combination was dialled in, so I can understand your pathetic, opportunistic, cum-covered sticky fingers for latching on to that one in a momentary fit of envy. But what the fuck are you gonna do with my battery charger? Answer me that one ball-licker!! It works exclusively in tandem with my bike battery, nothing fucking else. Do you have visions of trading it for another hit of whatever filthy, bathtub-cooked chemicals you’re currently hopped up on? Good luck there, fuckhead. Perhaps you stole it because you needed a new toy to shove up your well-stretched ass. You probably miss the notoriety from your most recent jail sentence when your boyfriend inmates gave you a gold medal for the most cocks plugged simultaneously into your sphincter. Fear not motherfucker, you’ll be back to visit your good time pals soon enough for the winter Cocksucker Olympic Games.
It’s a lot of fun to have this stupidity at my immediate disposal.
When it comes down to it, I’m pretty much just writing to myself. For the most part, no one’s reading this, and no one really cares. If anything, I’m probably offending a lot more people than I’d like to endear in my life, but that’s all part of the fun in testing the waters. Firing off a snippet here and there when I need a change of pace from writing a new book that no one will buy is always a way to get some fresh perspective.
Do I have anything relevant to say in this post?
Or maybe not.
It all comes down to relating to people.
Such is the nature of life. I’m a reclusive introvert by nature, but you wouldn’t be reading this malarky if sharing life experience meant nothing to me. Our daily adventures always have the potential to be fascinating and wondrous, but, to me, they always seem a little more real and substantial when they can be shared with someone who cares.
The current scientific dogma tells us that energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed. Einstein’s formula postulates that a small amount of matter is equal to an insanely tremendous amount of energy. If you consider we are all made of matter, why exactly are we ever in need of food to replenish ourselves?
Let’s start simply.
What is “energy?”
It’s a made up word to describe an effect. Any definition you come across about energy will tell you what it does, but not what it is. If I tell you a donkey is a unique, four-legged, furry, hoofed mammal that belongs to the horse family, despite not having a picture available, you might be able to construct a rudimentary image of one in your mind. If I tell you a donkey is an animal that has the capacity to pull 32 – 75 newtons of force, you might find yourself confused. If I tell you a donkey describes the strength and vitality required for sustained physical activity, with power derived from the utilization of physical or chemical resources, you might consider I have no fucking clue what a donkey is.
It’s official, more stupidity now exists in the universe! If you were looking for one more reason to justify having no respect for my foul-mouthed ideas and mocking self-superiority, this book is for you! The small bits of honest insight were mostly accidental, so don’t judge me too harshly on them.
The digital version is still slowly disseminating through the microchips of our virtual world, but it will be available at all the major outlets within the week, if not right now. Canadian distributors should be carrying it for a dollar. It’s a short read, but the perfect bang for your buck!
Print book available at Amazon. The minuscule profit crumbs they leave me with after a sale will get donated to starving children in Canada. Luckily, because of my immaturity, I qualify to receive those funds.
You can cut out the middle man and buy a signed print copy directly from me, complete with unique personalized wisdom scribbled on the inside cover. Message me if interested. At 10 bucks, it’s a steal!
I’ll figure out a way to sell shit directly here at some point. For now, let’s do our best to keep the gouging tentacles of Amazon as full as possible.
There’s more crazy shit in the works, thanks for all the support!
The Fine Art of Being a Complete Asshole
Random Lesson of the Day: Treating the Help Like Shit
Naturally you’re far too busy to cook for yourself. Since mommy isn’t around to do it anymore, and you’re wife had the good sense to finally leave you, there’s only one solution to putting food in your belly – dining out.
Perhaps you’ve recently coerced a new female companion into believing you are as charming and wonderful as you undoubtedly believe in your own mind, and tonight’s the night to impress her at your favourite fancy establishment.
I have a few days of editing and formatting left, but, after finishing the cover design, I felt compelled to share my enthusiasm with you…
The e-book version will probably go on sale for a buck, but there’s nothing better than holding newly printed pages in your hand. I may put together some copies you can buy directly from BonerFruit, but I still have to figure out production costs.
Send me a message is you’re interested in owning a pre-released, signed copy!
It’s been a little too long since a blog post, but sometimes shit comes up.
Distraction isn’t the issue here. My passion is sound. I write everyday. But I can’t always direct that energy into my goofy website. There are always bigger fish to fry, and my pans are a little too small at the moment to accommodate the whoppers that bite my lures.
I’m at a crossroads right now of choosing to make up a random thousand word essay, or just share a bit of a teaser with you…