Good Morning

It’s a good day to be alive. It’s yet another step in our global path to Armageddon.

The sun is shining, birds are chirping, my head and testicles are equally in pain and both sport throbbing veins.

You wake up, down some painkillers and sext a barley legal e-girl.

She calls you daddy while her dad spents countless hours tearing up every night because she’s a fucking whore.

You eat some cottage, your gut becomes inflamed and you wanna throw up. You don’t but it hurts so you smoke a gas station cigar. The Cuban one is too pricey to waste right now.

The cheap tobacco clogs your lungs slowly but surly and the horrid taste distracts you from the never-ending pain of 2020.

You post seductive muscle pics to IG and troll some stuck up communist sluts with loose pussies. It’s very fun.

You bully your little brothers because you are bored due to government not letting you leave home because the plan is to kill the spirit of the already broken youth.

Maybe you watch Netflix while daydreaming about the Golden Days of the Mafia.

You go to bed. Can’t sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Good morning. Fuck you.

We <3 Violence

“Sometimes, periodically I struggle with the possibility I could hurt somebody. That sometimes it’s orgasmic. What does it mean when fighting gets you erect, what does that mean?” -Mike Tyson

Why do us men crave and relish the experience of war? What is it about bloody fists and black eyes that secretly gives us a swift injection of joy? If we knew, we could never explain it due to the possibility of being looked at as maniacs. Do we even know?

Sure, some might trace it to our evolutionary needs. We survived and thrived as a species by kicking dinosaur ass and when we replicate the experience our tiny brain feels good knowing we live to fight another day and didn’t get eaten so we can carry on our genes and make babies. Yay?

I don’t think that’s it. Maybe that’s the late night beer talking. I mean, it is IT. But there’s more.

Maybe it’s sadism? Maybe all men are oddball freaks that have a weird hidden fetish for destruction?

Nah, joking. I don’t live in California and I ain’t gay.

Maybe it’s just a rebellious thing. Society wants us neutered and lame so we literally fight back by engaging in extreme acts of whoop ass to own the pozzed deep state that runs this soft gynocentric world.

I don’t fucking know. Chalk it up to hidden alien probe programming for all I care. All I know is every man needs to experience violence to feel fulfilled. Whether it’s simulated, friendly, murderous, video game driven.. pick your poison.

We are men. We love to fight.

This has been drunk writing with Red Beard. Fuck off.

We live in a HOMOgenized society

It’s a Sunday Monday.

You wake up at 7:30 am, you slept like shit the night before and you barely get any morning wood anymore. You curse your maker and go take your piss with a hobo-ish limp because you’re still hungover from binge drinking cheap supermarket vodka for no apparent reason.

You stumble into the kitchen to see your shitty children. Your son who is a skinny little twerp with a face not even a mother could love from excessive soy consumption is eating a tofu omlette. Your daughter who is the town whore just finished taking her lame morning selfie for Instagram so 20 year old horndogs can beat off to her and send her cum tributes.

The wife is on her phone, you approach to give her a kiss and she pushes you away because you smell like dog semen and did not brush your yellow rotten teeth. She goes back to texting her Ethiopian lover you don’t know about because you are retarded.

It’s now 9:20 am.

You are on your way to work. You are stuck in traffic. Hopelessly puffing on cigarettes to ease your anxiety. Your therapist who is addicted to coke told you to quit but you never fucking listen. You contemplate jumping into the highway and committing suicide.

You don’t.

It’s 1:30 pm.

You finish your day of work a little early. Good for you, fuckhead. You are probably tired of sitting in a broken chair everyday in a cubicle designed according to the whims of some soulless corporate overlords.

You pack up your briefcase and leave the office to make your way home. On the way out you see some ugly dykes with shaved hair and their fat pink Mohawk having “male” friends, they point at you and laugh while lamenting on how lame and dumb it is to be an office working white man. They are also white but don’t work. You sigh and enter the car. Gas is empty. Damn.

4:00 pm.

You go back home. Finally. You have the rest of the day to yourself.

You can vaguely hear noise coming from upstairs. It’s just your hoe daughter fingering herself for OnlyFans. No big deal. Sex work is normal now.

You take a Xanny and turn on ESPN hoping to chill out. Your wife comes home with papers. What? Oh shit. The divorce papers. Today is the day. Fuck, how did you forget?

You try to convince her you should stay together but she won’t have it. She wants to be with Abraham. He is diverse, richer and knows how to facefuck her unlike you. He also has a six pack and steady access to steroid drug kingpins.

You finally cave in and sign the papers. You tell her you still love her. She says she never loved you in the first place. She leaves the house because her new man called her over to fuck.

You wipe your tears and go to bed. You wish you could beat her boyfriends ass and win her back. Suddenly you are filled with ancient rage and a desire to transform your miserable fucking life. You contemplate finally dieting, kicking your kids out and shooting the black lovers head off.

But you don’t. The Xanny kicked in and you fell asleep after jerking off. You have some jizz residue on your lips. You kill yourself the next day.

This is society.