A Hell-Universe

SHONG SHONG SHONG LOP PA

I will destroy you. I will destroy every memory of you. I will destroy your essence. I will destroy the totality of your being. I will destroy you.

SHONG SHONG SHONG LOP PA

Think these thoughts twice a day to destroy a random human being! No one will know!

Washed my underpants in the bathtub instead of doing laundry, but then I lay in bed all day and jacked off anyway. It’s not like I even needed boxers to do that.

I can’t wait for the day when I can tell the son I created along with genetic material from another man that he is no longer a manmanbaby; he’s a manmanman now. Then I’ll tell him the above story, and then I’ll go try crack for the first time before heading off to my job at the ugly people factory (we will use them for slaves).

What we really need to do is raise taxes on the top .00000001 percent of the population, by at least one or two percents. Those six quadrillionaires have had it too easy for too long.

It is pretty frustrating that some people have amounts of money that can only be measured in numbers that didn’t have names or ideas behind them for most of human history, and I have never even been a thousandaire. Sometimes I fantasize about being a thousandaire, but then I have to confront the sad reality that then I would be expected to take vacations and own a car and a dog.

I would love to do lots of hard work and make my real fifty bucks, but the big issue is that I am too burdened by all this privilege. God damn privilege. If only I had been born in a Third World nation, then maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with this limitless access to human knowledge and constant supply of readily available fats and sugars. Another good way I could get my fifty bucks is to have a rich dad or mom, I guess. I wonder what my dad did wrong? Besides having a poor dad, I mean. I can’t really blame him for that.

As the late, great Bruce Sprinsteen once said, “All you ladies pop your pussy like this/My neck, my back/Lick my pussy and my crack”. Oh wait, shit, except Bruce Sprinsteen isn’t dead.

A new part of my job is that I have to clean up blood every night. It is the part of my job I most hate.