R.I.P Kim's Sweet Booty

I have shitty grammar, and I can’t spell worth a shit. Add into that the fact that I have no idea how to write... It makes me think there might be hope for me yet. See I don’t know all the reasons why I shouldn't punctuate the way I do, or structure my sentences the way I do. I know what a preposition is. But I have no idea why I can’t start a sentence with them. I have heard the term hanging participle before, but I always wondered who’s horse Mr. Participle stole, and who wants to hang him.

I just type words. The words that come into my head. I have always loved spending time alone. Don’t get me wrong, I love being around people I love too... I just like it when they go away sometimes. I think people might get a kick out of the stupid shit that goes through my head at 3:22 A.M.

For example, where did the hole in my bedroom wall come from? It’s about head high if you were on your knees getting fucked like a bitch in heat. I wonder, at what point did I bang my wife so hard I put her head through a wall? And how good was I layin’ that shit down that she didn’t notice I put her head through a wall? I mean, I’m just sayin’, that’s all.. I’m just sayin.

I think to myself, what are people going to think of me? Then I remeber that I don’t sign my name to this. And unless I’m under F.B.I surveillance, no one outside of the people who already know I’m a nut job will connect the dots. Also know one cares. Not in a shitty kind of way either, but in a general nice kind of way. I mean, do you care if I like to watch weird porno? Do you judge me because I enjoy reality T.V shows that even my gay friends think are pretty fuckin’ homo. Do you find it appalling that I spend inordinate amounts of time looking at the casual encounters section of craigslist.org? Speaking of which! If you like strange penises you HAVE have to check that shit out... So many penises... So. Many. Pensises.

The moral of the story is... No. You don’t care. You just wanna read some shit on the internet because your job sucks and you are bored. Or! You are an insomniac like me, and cracked.com just doesn't update their shit fast enough for you to stay entertained.

I’m gonna smoke a bowl, and contemplate why, deep down in my heart, my feelings are hurt that Kim Kardashian is having a baby with Kanye West, and not me... It’s goddamned heart breaking. Now even if I do become a famous, rich, and successful horse breeder. Kanye owns that sweet, sweet booty... R.I.P Kim’s sweet booty.