Pssst…. I'm talking to you….

Well let me tell you if this is hell, then I’m really disappointed. It seems rather mundane and meh to tell you the truth. Nothing much has changed, so maybe that IS hell? Well didn’t the devil get the last laugh. He will pay for this!

Though on a serious note it seems that we have survived the internet apocalypse, don’t get me wrong it really still rages on out there but all the big companies and the ones I rely on to fill my life are back up and running and that’s what’s important. See priorities are right where they should be. I’m sure there are some really angry big companies out there loosing a whole heaps of money from this apocalypse and we the consumer will end up paying the price by price jacking, though until then, as long as all is right in my world (internet wise) I’m sitting here a happy camper. That’s a metaphor I wouldn’t actually GO camping. Tents, bugs, holes in grounds to shit in and collected cold water showers are SO not my thing. I’m going to take a wild stab and guess you aren’t too surprised by that though

So remember a few days back when I posted about my love for haters? Still love you guys by the way, that hasn’t change and the decor in this mansion is delightful. I’m thinking of installing a disco ball. Yeah all kinds of tacky but the possibility of inducing some light related hallucinations is too good to pass up. Keep a watch out for that. I might also pump the most annoying songs I can find, like a mixed tape of all the songs on the radio that make you want to claw your brain out when they get stuck in there. Taylor Swift anyone? Are they really stuck or am I living in your head torturing you already? You can decide that’s half the fun of it all. I know you’re so happy you could poop right. Feel free, but on your own time, this is MY time. Hold it!


Remember I said every rule has an exception?

The mystery eh? Well actually it’s far less mysterious and far more chickenshit than anything. It’s the friendly hater. Seems like an oxymoron right, well at least the moron part is right. I’m talking those who hate you, but not to your face, but behind your back. Those who don’t have the balls to say what they really think TO you and are as sweet as a pie that would put this diabetic in a coma but behind your back are talking. These are the dumbest sort of haters really because everyone knows a REAL bitch/asshole/perfectionist/narcissistic/OCD/psychopathic personality knows EVERYTHING , pretty much as it happens. Don’t underestimate us ever; it will be your undoing. Not much gets past me on a bad day, nothing gets past me on a good day. Ok, I’m being modest nothing gets past me ever.

So anyhoo we were on the chicken shit two-faced hater you know the kind, all up in your face, so polite and even dabbling their toe in the friendship pool. Though little do they know, I filled the pool full of acid. Enough to destroy a body and I’m just dying for the chance to push you right in! Hell, I’m sure I have my own pool of acid and people wanting to push me in, for different reasons, but unfortunately acid will not touch me. I’m immune to it. People have tried and failed, it turns out it only burns if you let it. Not burning here. Suck it! You deserve as much respect as the random crud that collects under foreskins. It’s called Smegma I believe. I now pronounce you Smegma’s.

See you hate, but not to my face but to others. Well done you, you obviously lost your man/bitch cards somewhere. Here let me give you some of mine, though by the end of this I will have those back. Please and thank you!

So I’m penning you a letter, for future reference;


Dear Smegma,

I understand the hate, I really do. I can see why I might be overwhelming. Intimidating, awe-inspiring and frightening. I am who you wish you could be. Lets face it; I really live with minimal boundaries other than a strong moral code. For example everyone is safe, unless they fuck with me or my family and friends. After that it’s game on bitches!

Looking in coming from me, seeing you, that’s gotta be the hottest mess of total midfucked disappointment there is. I’m awesome, I know. Deal with it, I had to and boy it was a rough road. Well no really it wasn’t, well at least not for me. But how others process this has nothing to do with me and isn’t my problem. It’s really is that easy. Take note that’s actually a very important life lesson right there (seriously).

I know you lack the motivation/gumption/set (see my hater blog for tips) in life to commit to accepting yourself and growing as a person. You’re still that stunted awkward teenager, boy that sucks. But your solely responsible for that, you really have to grow up at some point and blaming and hating others for your shortcoming is all types of fucked up. You’re an adult; get you’re shit together, Peter Pan Syndrome and Princess Bitch Face Syndrome are not endearing traits. I’m pretty confident; I’m not the only one in line to push you into that pool of acid.

So right back to you lacking the intentional fortitude to actually do anything productive with your time. Maybe a rant blog isn’t productive (like that’s all I do), but neither is sitting there with you dick in your hands. By productive, I mean actually grow a set and man/woman up. Grow up. If you’re that miserable with whom you are, you have to tear others down and behind their backs at that, then you dear Smegma have real issues that need to be addressed. Newsflash, there are these little things called free will and free choice. They lead you to where you are today. There is also a little thing called personal responsibility. Now this is going to blow your mind Smegma, but these things sit on YOUR shoulders. So grab a man/bitch card and own it or give me the fucken cards you pansy.

You’re opinion you’re so happy to share with others but are too afraid to voice to me? Granted with good reason, I’d either cut you a million ways or turn you to stone, maybe both. I’ll fly by the seat of my pants in the moment. I hate surprises generally, but this type is the exception. They are exquisite because I’m so crazy not even I know what I might do. Back to that opinion. I’m going to grab it and shove it ceremoniously up you’re ass with a huge pointy and sharp stick, so have the lube ready, or not, I don’t particularly care. Had you voiced it to me personally, you would have been spared this delight. I might actually have respected you some. Of course I wouldn’t have just ignored it, but hell if you had those ball we might actually have been able to be real friends.

There is nothing I hate more than two-faced people. NOTHING! That’s a huge call and I’m making it. You know why? It’s because your yellow-bellied, spineless, sad and totally gutless. You sit there trying to play me, so when that well placed barb fly’s directly at you and hits spot on, you don’t know if your imagining it, due to your hate filled glasses, or because I’m just that vindictive. Oh it’s for sure the latter. Don’t ever question that Smegma.

You forget that one of my brain cells is smarter than your entire brain and about 100 generations of the brains that came from your family line put together. I have a certificate to prove it. I’ll pop your head on my wall right next to it. I generally abhor hunting for sport, but idiots and gutless wonders; well they do go in the trophy cabinet. It will be a collector’s piece one day.

Smegma are the most epic of clusterfuck train wreck there is. You are the pond scum my ancestors crawled out of a million years ago, then shat out, a dinosaur trod it, traipsed across some more crud and the bacteria that started to grow on it. At this point I’m willing to attribute the plague to them. You certainly inspire that reaction in me. God that’s got to be a bitter pill to swallow and knowing really they are just that I’m going that teeny gently on you at that. Though the good news is you can change, the bad news is you wont. What a double-edged sword.

So while you mull this over dear Smegma, wondering if I’m talking to you and I most certainly am, surprise! I’m kicking back and just adoring being who I am, comfortable in my own skin, saying what I really want to say and accepting who I am, I will think of you. You know why? Cause Ms. Grumpy Cat just took a dump and I can smell it.


Everything you always wanted but never will be cause you refuse to grow the fuck up so you remain a ballless, stupid, fuckass Smegma.


I know, your eyes feel like they have been visually assaulted right? I apologise for that dear reader, not my intention at all but anyone with smarts knows in order to deal with this sort of gutless stupid you can’t mince words. Of course it’s totally OTT, totally dramatic and oh so narcissistic but what can I say? I’m a bitch, I’m PMS’ing and the limited edition Givenchy star handbag I wanted in beige and black is only available in red and black. So it was a bad day for gutless wonder to have a stealth attack, though I must admit I’m feeling way better now. Feel free to take my letter, edit it to suit your purposes and hand it on to the chickenshit hater in your life, we all have a Smegma. It will be liberating.

You’re welcome!