Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Human Beings


This photo makes me wish I were a lion or grizzly bear, even a giraffe or rhino, a butterfly, a moth, a mole, a salmon, something, anything other than a human being.

So I guess Maria Menounos made a bet regarding Super Bowl XLVI. If her hometown team of the Patriots lost, she'd wear a Giants bikini in the middle of Times Square. If the Patriots won, her colleague A.J. Calloway would wear a Patriots cheerleader outfit. The fact that this is newsworthy, that it would somehow garner media space worth millions of dollars, makes me wish I were a crab scuttling across the floors of silent seas. There would be so much more dignity in that. If right-clicking such an image of Menounos and Mario Lopez has become an everyday part of the human condition, then we have clearly wasted our once-in-a-universe opportunity of genetically evolving from apes. I'd rather wank off from a tree and eat bugs.

P.S. Due to cropping you can't see in my pic that Menounos is also wearing Uggs to go with her bikini.

1 comment:

  1. i somehow got to this blog and read some of your shit and i dig your logic on some shit especially concerning the stuffiness and pussness of art and the fagdicks who think they know about it. I just dont get why you love Don DeLillo so much, hes just another product of this bullshit write for money generation like Updike and Bellow, fuck these dudes, I read some of your shit now youre gonna read my shit.

    The stuff you wrote about Jonathan Franzen's book of essays brings up an interesting point about the activity of reading. I used to read because I liked the sea adventure stories like Melville. Reading was pleasurable. Then I went to college and learned from a bunch of fuckfaces that i hadnt read shit and that the best authors ever were headcases like Joyce and T.S. Eliot and that I was totally retarded and ignorant fro not reading their modernist faggot shit. Then reading became a chore and I just read shit to read and to say I read it and so I could answer Jeopardy questions like a priest going thru the motions who dont even believe in the shit. I read gay fuckin fagshit like Bronte and Tomas Mann and Austen and H.D. and Sappho and Hugh Kenner.The worst part is that I feel more stupid than ever. I didnt learn a motherfuckin thing from these books or these bitch ass professors. Now I try not to read but i cant help it sometimes. Yesterday I read one of the most horrifying pieces of literature ever called the glass menagerie by tennessee williams. I couldnt even finish this shit it was so disturbing. When did reading become not pleasurable. Its all about realism and fuckin truth and portraying the real shit. The truth doesnt matter. If we knew the whole horrifying truth about this world and how it came to be like this and why its ok for a cunty slore like Maria Menounos to do slore shit we would all kill ourselves. Instantly. Truth doesnt matter, i dont give a fuck abotu the truth anymore i just want to enjoy a fuckin book or listen to redman or somethin,

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