So apparently I'm so goddamn crazy that I have been ordered by a court of law to undergo psychiatric evaluation at the expense of you, the taxpayer. My shrink is forcing me to keep a blog so that he can keep track of every fucked up thing that comes out of my mouth. Said it was a good way to vent my feelings. I asked him what the fuck a blog was and he said it was like a computer diary for pretentious unemployed hipsters or some shit. I told him fuck off, I got no computer, I'm goddamn homeless. He says, that's okay, we can transcribe it, just talk normally.
So now I got a dwarf that follows me around and writes down everything I say. It's kinda weird, but not the first time I've had it happen. Only the last time, it was a female dwarf and we were married. She was a stripper. We're not that close anymore. I heard she got remarried. Bitch. I'll never forget you, Tiny Tina.
So anyway I guess now you lucky fuckers get to listen to my everyday inner monologues. Just whatever pops into my head, I'll say it and fuck you if you don't like it because this goddamn dwarf just keeps typing, he doesn't even care. No filter. Pure fucking gibberish. How much tax money you think it takes to pay that dwarf to follow me around? He doesn't eat much. Is dwarf offensive? No, dwarf, I'm talking to you, stop writing for a second. Should I call you midget-American, or little niblet, or what?
Okay, well I guess he doesn't talk so fuck him. So… what do you fuckers want me to say? I assume somebody's gonna read this shit at some point. Well, I guess I'll start with the basics.
I'm a prophet. You can scoff at that if you want but I can also gouge out your eye with a busted beer bottle, so keep your skepticism to yourself if you have any doubts as to the validity of my clairvoyance. I can see the future, usually when I'm on heroin. Since I do heroin on a daily basis, it works out pretty well. The only problem is when the prophetic visions get crossed with the acid flashbacks. That gets confusing, but don't worry, I'm a professional.
I'll be sharing my apocalyptic visions and conspiracy theories with you, as well as random stupid shit that pisses me off and celebrities I'd like to cage fight. And you can read it all, whether you want to hear about it or not. I might talk about the news, depending on whether or not I'm using an interesting newspaper as a blanket. I might go on a twenty minute rant about Jennifer Lopez's ass, or why the government puts poison in Pez candy. Who the fuck knows? I don't. Whatever the dwarf writes, that's the blog. I just drink here.
Oh, and I guess if people want to email me or something that's fine. I won't personally answer your emails because I think you're all disgusting and weird and I don't want your computer germs. If you have a dumb question then I can answer it in a blog entry or something. And I guess I have a Facebook thing now, so you can just post your stupid questions there, or leave a message, or links to stupid bullshit news articles that you think I give a shit about (I don't) and I'll make fun of them later. In fact, don't email me at all. I don't trust you. Just do the facebook thing. Maybe if I get really bored I'll make a Twatter account. Am I saying that right? I don't care. Fuck your internet.
Hell, maybe you're in some shitty band and you want me to hear your goddamn demo tape so I can be amazed at how much your band fucking sucks. Want me to write a brutal review on how much your shitty band sucks? I'll do it, I don't give a damn. I got no job anyway, might as well. Just think, you could be famous. You'll be the asshole in that shitty band that Copernicus Thunderbird hates. That's an honor. You should be so lucky.
http://www.facebook.com/CopernicusThunderbird