Fuck That Guy And Die!

No No I'm not talking about a hot bum with AIDS.

I'm talking about the guy no one loves.
Seriously no one.



Fuck You Grim Reaper.

Reaps...
I definitely give you your propers for guest starring on Family Guy sometimes.
I also think you were a great cast member of Bill and Ted's.

But seriously.
You're horrible.

(I also fell asleep watching you play chess for that soldiers life in The Seventh Seal)

Thanks for taking MomMom and PopPop. The two most angelic hilarious little Irish humans ever.
How could you take my MomMom after seeing her in those fucking ladybug leisure pants?
Her legs were maybe a total of 8 inches long which made it even more squishy cuddle lovey.
And PopPop? Only the nicest guy ever. His hair as white and soft as angel pubes.
His funny little hats and red cardigans??
Are you KIDDING?
Asshole!

Do you even have an asshole?
How do you poop?
What do you poop?
Heart valves and soul strings?
Baby teeth and pinkie toes?
You're so gross.
I am willing to bet that under the cloak is a shriv of rotty flesh and really bad acne.
Proactiv, son!

OK.
Some men who wear cloaks are foxy.
Example: I went to a D'Angelo concert a long time ago and he came out in a haze of smoke wearing a hooded floor legnth cloak.
What was under?
His sexah body cased in only black leather pants, no shirt atall.
Dreamy!
Also, I am willing to bet there are some dicklicious monks up there in the mountaintops, covering their hotness for the sake of eternal nirvana or whatever.

Not the point.
Death, you are definitely ugly.
You are like that super out of shape, block-headed, rank breathed jerkoff who makes boys cry by beating them up, and makes girls cry by yelling that they have itty bitty titties.
Yeah, I've met your type.
I've also kicked your type square in the nutsies so watch out.

Reaps better make sure that I'm struck down with something like terminal brain cancer or Lou Gehrigs because I will not go easy.
Don't fear the Reaper!!

I don't fear him.
Just fuck him.

Don't think we forgot about the Black Plague fool.

We all recall.



Did you have to take EVERYBODY?
Greedy.

You also ruin many romantic films.
Its totes classic for two people to fall in love, have tons of sex, look eachother in the eyes for hours on end, whsiper shit to eachother, and FINALLY feel like they have found joy.
Yes!
Yes!
The world is SO beautiful!
We could live like this forever!
Oh wait.
Shit.
Oh, right, now one of them is going to get amazingly ill in like point five seconds, end up panting in a hospital bed, and croak.
Then we all cry and decide that movie is too sad to watch ever again.
But then we doooo watch it again and its just as bad as the first time.
Gluttons for punishment.

It wouldn't be that bad if it was all fictional but its sadly true.
The reaps is gonna take your mom, your sibs, your best friend, your soulmate, AND your fucking dog.
And then you.

Actually, I will give you a break. There was this one time you didn't fuck up


May lightening strike me down walking on Broadway late night trying to hail a cab....

Fuck You Death.
I would murder you, but thats kind of your bag.

You're the ill dick.
(cheese)


(The only person I hate more than you is T Cruiser)

List.

1. My guts tingle every time I log on to myspace and see the Dark Knight background. Then I pee a little and dance in the pee puddle. Then I imagine the movie in my mind and pee more.

2. I went to the Natch History Museum. Oh big deal you say? I go all the time? Not totes excites?
Well fuck you, because I saw a movie there called SEA MONSTERS.



Dinosaurs. In the ocean. Eating eachother. Scenes of gore and discovery were interspersed with scenes over time of nerds digging holes to find the bones that explain the film.
Heaven?
Mabes.
Not mabes.
Defs.
I took Owen who ps. just turned 3. They didn't want to sell me a ticket for him, but I'm his Tony Danza, not them.
(Boss)
(I'm his boss.)

3. I hate it when you totally want to make out with someone who is one of these two things or both:
a) a loser
b) not into you.

I love losers who are not into me.
Enough said on the topic.
I would put a picture of at least one of the "men" I am referencing here but that would be super embarrassing and I'm really not prepared for that shit right now.
That would be somewhere on the shame scale between throwing a birthday party no one comes to, and making out with some dude right after you vom at the bar.

4. I just invented a fucked up version of the Rom Com (romantic comedy) called the Vom Com. Instead of cute people falling in love, then getting into hijinx, then living happily ever after, instead they puke everywhere randomly throughout the film.

5. Obviously I have puke on my mind.

6. Obviously not literally.

7. At this point I really take at least 20 pictures a day of cats.



And yes, I have a cat, a Freud dream book, a gemstone, a softball, and linen spray on the window by my bed.
How I became that person, it is a true true mystery.
I feel like I live in a fucking Cathy comic.



8. My olfactory sensitivity is at an all time high today. Everything I smelled made me sick. In fact, I happened to sit next to a bum on the train by accident. He was one of those bums who looks actually shiny because the natural oils of his body have had so much time to accumulate.
I am not an insensitive woman, I feel for bums.
But I actually had to get up and move halfway down the car. Then cover my face with my hand.
I could still smell him.
And my mind could not switch to anything else.
It was ME. and SHINY BUM.
All else vanished.
I had a panic attack somewhere around 14th street and realized my greatest wish was that someone could turn down the sensory dial in my nasal passage.

Also I smelled a banana at work and almost screamed.

The End.

Tasty!

Quote of the century:


The Joy of Sex Original Edition, 1972
p 130



- in regards to the use of a feminine douche

"No one wants peach sauce, on say, scampi."

Excellent.



Footnote. September 2008 the new edition comes out. The male lovahh in the illustrations will no longer be a loose fleshed hippie with a loggers beard.
The bitch gets to keep her armpit hair though!


My birthday is September 5.
Coincidence?
No.