That's right kids!
This is my 50th post since the rebirth of my blog.
It's exactly 4:20 AM, November 14th, which not only means that I should be doing something else, it means that in 5 days I won't have to get this drunk illegally. Thank you, spellcheck, it is my 21st birthday soon.
Either way, this post is going to be special, not only because it's my 50th post celibration; not only because it's 5 days until my birthday, but because I've realized the best way to be happy tonight. I know, I know. It's been done here on PIC. Nate DeGraaf once said something about not being happy when you win, take it in stride when you lose and always smile. I disagree with him. The bastard is a genius, but I just can't agree. This seems more like something you say to get laid.
Here's my take on it:
This is the adult world…
You get up. You go to work. You come home. You go to sleep.
It happens day in, day out until you die.
Nothing changes.
Sure you have your spouse, your kids, the stability of your job. But doesn't the sheer monotany of the whole thing just bore you to tears? I mean, is a fucking golf match on Sunday or a night out after days and days of work really make up for it? Does getting shit from you boss for 5 days out of the week get made up for during 2 bland ass days of mowing your lawn and reshingling the house? Do you ever see what your goddamned tax dollars go to? Does your teacher appreciate it that you're in class with a flu? Does your dog say “Thank you, Nick” when you take him for a shit at 5 AM? Do girls appreciate it when you hold the door? Do guys not call you back after you put out? What about health insurance, does that ever really help you out?
Are public bathrooms even fucking clean?!
No.
And you know what? We all work hard, and goddamnit, it's not fair. At least, I know that I don't bust my ass to come home and not see a naked girl waiting for me in MY BED. No, I've got to get a shower. I've got to brush my fucking teeth. I've got to put on matching socks and matching SHOES goddamnit. I've got to put gas in my car at twenty dollars a drop, pay money that I don't have to talk to bitches I don't want to talk to and then seduce them.
I SAY, NO MORE.
It's goddamned time for a change. It's goddamned time for somebody to step up, grab bureaucracy by the nuts and shake them good and hard. Somebody to say, “FUCK YOU, Washington.” “FUCK YOU, Barbara Bush.” and “FUCK YOU, Ted Turner.”
It's time for somebody to ask me, “How do you like your eggs?” and bring them to me. For free. It's time for somebody to suck my dick and then ask, “How much do I owe you?” Basically, reader, it's time for things to get set straight in America.
But how are we going to do this?
Simple.
Two things: Personal responsibility and hookers.
First, personal responsibility.
If we stopped outlawing drugs. If we stopped making it illegal to not wear a seatbelt. If we basically quit putting money into things that people completely put upon themselves, then America would be better. And it's not just the overall sense of accomplishment that we'd have. It's the money we'd save from helping those fucking retards learn not to stick a fork in a light socket.
With that money comes step two: hookers. Not your redlight run-in-the-mill deals. I'm talking about high quality bitches here.
I'm saying that with all the money saved on suing the tobacco industry, we let the dumbasses who die of lung cancer because they smoked for 40 years die and then put my own, special hooker in my bed after a long day of school and work.
Think about it…You work 8 hours a day, come home to a fully cooked meal and BAM there's a hooker. Works the same way for ladies too.
How would I get the perfect hooker, you might be asking. Easy.
Once a year, each person will be asked to fill out a questionaire in regards to their ideal hooker. Each application will be sent through a massive supercomputer (that will be bought with the money saved on outlawing weed), and the people will be matched accordingly. Everybody will be somebody else's hooker for every other year. That is, if I get a hooker one year, then I will fill out my own Pimp sheet, and be placed with a girl who not only sees me as fit for her, but I see fit for myself.
Everybody gets somebody new every year.
If, perchance, you develop feelings for one of your personal hookers, you can then move to Canada and live happily with that stupid bitch who spilled coffee on herself and then sued McDonalds. After all, in my America, stupid people who take responsibilty for their actions can move away, because I'm sick of getting my goddamned taxes taken out to fund various retarded personal adventures in stupidity.
As a hooker, you receive everything you need for a year. As a pimp, you work minimal shifts, but get your nuts/clitoris licked like you're the last lollipop in paradise.
It's a beautiful trade.
In closing, I'd just like to say that it's time for things to change in America. It's time we set things staight, goddamnit. I'm pissed off and I'm not going to sit here and take it anymore. I'm going to go jerk off to my premise and pray it catches on.
Love me, hate me…I don't give a rat's ass. I'm just Nick Gaudio and I'm telling you what I think.
That's all.