Well, it’s that time again
Life finally gave me enough shitty stimuli for me to write again
Life is swell
Money is slowly stacked
I got new window shades
I make roastbeef dishes that are absolutely delightful
All the stuff that makes up for my inability to take decent chunks of shit without burning up like a scorched Afghan corpse
Since everything is on the up, I’ve been thinking.. what’s the next move? What would make me happier?
I could juice up to 220 lbs maybe?
Get a new place?
Become a G Manifesto bootleg copy with suit swoops?
I don’t fucking know, I just don’t want to be content that much I’m certain
We men are never truly satisfied, when we’re satisfied we lose our flame, our mojo, OUR BALLS
Even when God sends morally questionable hot adult teens into my life which I always ask for.. I get excited and then it’s.. just another slice of life to handle…
Business plays and parlor tricks, yada yada.. routine bullshit
I say I wanna challenge myself in the career field, I find hardass clientele that busts balls.. I get it as ordered.. And it’s like.. a nuisance.. not even a trouble.. just something you wanna move past on a checklist
What if getting my custom-made Italian suit- wandering the high-end district-Met Gala- Egyptian silk sheet threesome fantasies will disappoint just as much?
Does anything material and physical in this life besides mortal combat ever make you whole?
Besides the worship of God, everything is futile
I feel like King Solomon
Everything is so dull
The medicine to such nihilism boils down to:
- Keep good company
- Meet interesting people, find muse and inspiration in your fans and critics alike
- Kiss beautiful women
- Thank God
- Thank GOD
Just keep the gratitude train rolling
Because somewhere is a one-nutted motherfucker that is praying nightly to have your life as is even if it’s subjectively SHIT
I will keep wearing decent to extravagant clothing, I will keep annoying hot girls that have world-class ass (hello if you’re reading this you sexy bitch ❤️), I will continue to maintain the Stones are better than the shitty Beatles, I will not eat bugs, I will stay hot and manifest good vibes, I WILL GET A GOOD NIGHT’S REST!
Hopefully, I will continue to have more subjects to write about soon and a nice sloppy blowjob to accompany the typing
The new WordPress editor is cancer
One thought on “Fuckery, Discontent, Gratitude”
Money, Jim, big booty bitches