I want you to know
how much I wish for you to contract genital herpes and die a slow
painful death involving a Frisbee and your esophagus for your song ‘The day you said goodnight’.
On second thought, I don’t want you to die because that’d be copping
out. I mean considering you sicced this song on the world like the
ugliest, most rabid, idiocy-inflicting pit bull there is; the
encumbrance of making this abominable piece of music go away is on you.
I don’t know how you’d do it Hale guy but please, just do it.
Go to every record store, purchase all the copies of your album you can
find and throw them all into a furnace. Show up on talk shows and say
some really stupid things like how much you support ethnic cleansing or
how much you fantasize about sodomizing little kittens; do this until
you are shunned by even your most ardent fans. Create a chronosphere,
go back in time and just fucking unwrite the song. Just make it stop, please,I beg of you.
It’s
been more than three months since your single, the day you said
goodnight enjoyed considerable airplay, rode the top of the charts
and yet I still hear that palling intro riff seep out of the radio an
average of five times a day, and I, sir, am sick of it. So sick of it
in fact that I am in the brink of committing some really nasty
homicides whenever I hear it.
I just realized that in
addition to the reasons I stated with regards to why I hate Christmas in THIS post;
there’s one more thing that’s causing this late year funk I have going on: I’m
abso-fucking-lutely girl crazy right now.
My good friend Mark, whom
I spent my first Oktoberfest party of the month with, was quick to point this
fact out.
“Dude, I wish we could’ve
stayed and hung out a bit longer, that Kimberly chick you were shooting crap
with and…dammit, what’s her other friend’s name?” I said making an illegal
U-turn on
“Anna.”
“Yeah her, they were both
pretty hot don’t you think?”
Mark gagged. “Honestly?
They were okay looking, but not hot. I think you had fucking San Miguel beer
goggles on by the time I hooked up with them.” Mark says taking a huge puff off
his cigarette.
“Sheeriously?” I slur. “Maybe
you’re just sourgraping man; I mean you have a new girlfriend and maybe you don’t
have the balls to take things farther with them.”
“Mike, look, they were
average-looking okay? I think you just have a different perspective on women
now with that little thing you had with Nix and this Kat girl you went out with
recently.” He says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my comprehension
impaired by cheap beer.
i am now a sucker for foreign (non-English) films; spanish films, specifically.
although daniel already gave up on any
hope, faltering or not, that i will ever be able to speak espanol and
understand it perfectly, he did manage to sit through the whole movie
with my occassional inquiries. “do you really understand what they are
saying?” i whispered during the earlier part of the movie.
“if you will not shut up, then i
wouldn’t.” he said and grinned while he terrorized and massacred the
nachos served incorrectly to him. i told him to serve it plain, he told
me as we went in, but he fucking started putting everything on it.
we do not make movies like Los lunes
al Sol anymore. in fact, i am not even sure if we even tried to. we
seem to be very concentrated on cheesy love stories, the unjust
treatment of the poor, the evils of the rich, and the messy, forcibly
complicated love triangles, quadrangles, and a very small world that
the characters seem to be revolving in.
Around this time of the year, from the
beginning to the middle of October, I become REALLY depressed. I don’t
know if it’s a hormonal thing, some really fucked up male PMS’ing, or
just the air that circulates this time of year.
Maybe it’s because Christmas is right
around the corner and I hate Christmas just about as much as I hate
polio. I mean, as I was growing up, Christmas was just pure magic– and
not just because of the presents mind you but because I had a wonderful
family to spend them with and we had a number of traditions. I don’t
know when it all stopped but it did and it’s just really sad. Thing’s
just aren’t like they used to be; I guess it’s just me coming to expect
that my family would always be around; I mean they still are, but we’re
just divided nowadays.
Mike "Fucking" Villar
"a Manila-based blogger made famous by his Atrocities of Friendster series, a regular feature he publishes on his blog where he mercilessly criticizes and mocks pictures of ugly people he stumbles upon on popular social networking site, Friendster. Although a lot of people are offended by what he writes, long-time readers of his blog regard him as a brilliant satire writer."
-Taken from my WikiBios page
