After receiving 7 emails, 10 facebook messages and two anonymous phonecalls (creeeeeeeepy), I'm back from my little hissyfit. Or should I say, back and just as angry as ever. Perhaps even J-Reb angry. You know, bitchy for bitchy's sake?
Either way, I guess I gotta update everybody on the shit that's gone down (swallowing-not forgetting-the heartache that that asshole from VT has caused everybody in the nation, especially the friends and families of the victims)
First, I've got a new girlfriend. This one isn't bad, guys! In fact, there's really no need for a break-up pool. If you check my facebook, you can see how hot she is. That should be enough for you, given you don't even know that she loves reading, nature, and most importantly, having lots of wet, naked sex.
Secondly, I have STILL YET TO FIND A JOB. So, I'm offering myself as an object of sex. I've talked to my girl about it; she understands that half of my money (if not more) will eventually go to her in some fashion, and even though she won't admit it, she's a woman and likes nice things. My going rate depends on how ugly you are, bitch. Don't even bother if you're fat. I'm not that desperate…and come to think of it, why would I want to fuck you when you're nothing but a gyrating pile of overindulgence (a reminder of greed and gluttony) and I'm eating tuna and Ramen noodles everynight? I'd be so angry fucking you, I'd put you on dialysis. (Not that those Big Macs haven't already fucked up your fatass liver and kidneys).
Thirdly, I'm nearly finished with my penultimate semester. Meaning that I've got one more to get incomprenhensibly drunk every night. It's really sad, actually. (The lack of time…not my lifestyle.)
Fourthly, the lit journal here at WVU is finally out. I have a mass amount of free copies, so if you'd like one, please let me know. If you ask in a funny way, I'll mail it to you myself…because I'm editor-in-chief and I get them fuh free, nigga. I might need a dollar on paypal or some shit so I can afford to send it to you…
Also, on Thursday night, I gave a little speech about the trials and tribulations of being editor-in-chief…confirming undoubtedly that I'm the English department's biggest douche.
Fifthly, I've finally noticed why my jokes don't seem funny when I'm high. It's because I'm quiet for ten minutes and then tell the punchline.
Sixthly, I noticed that I don't care that people don't get my jokes when I'm high; because, well, I'm high.
Seventhly, I realized that my readers are dope as shit. Who else would nag me with “GET YOUR FUCKING UNFUNNY AS BACK ON PIC” and “DUDE I'M MISSING YOUR BAD JOKES”?
Eightly, I also realized that there really aren't any jewelry thieves anymore. Thanks to the internet, that artform is dead. Like poetry, I guess.
Ninethly, I figured out that being an internet writer really sucks ass.
Tenthly, I also came to the conclusion that it beats being an angsty poet who doesn't write for days because he's mad at the world.
Eleventhly, I'm serious about the hooker thing. I'll do it. I'll do anything for money.
And I mean anything.
Expect a new column soon enough, you buncha assholes.
I love you.