He Lives... In A Truck

Suicide 2: Electric Boogaloo was a failure at the box-office and in a literal sense. But of course you already knew that. Who else would be writing in journal?


Chet?

OF FUCKING COURSE NOT CHET I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE FUCKING CHET IS ANYMORE!

Sometimes you people make me sick with how stupid you are regarding my life. That's alright though because there are so few of you out there right now reading this... no... actually it's just Ham right now. Ham, I must ask your forgiveness for many things, not the least of which is what I did your sheets, counter, rectum and pillow case. I have a feeling though that as time goes on I will be able to rectify what I have damaged. (Especially that rectum... damn near killed em.)

Well, Malin may still read this. Malin warms my heart and does not lie about me being ugly. Who else... Korrin? Korrin if you are reading this then I must apologize for rectal wreckage as well. I should just fill a fucking pillow case (one of the clean ones I stole from Ham) with apologies and go around every fucking town I come across just tossing them at people because at this point I have wronged so many that I would be hard pressed to find someone who has not felt the sting of my recklessness.

It could be a holiday for the new religion I am inventing for the sole purpose of altering the way people see the world. You see, in this current horrible world people do not give me money for no reason. I seek to change this. I am still in the middle of deciding on a name and a prophet and a story but it probably won't take long because it does not take shakespearean caliber words to get people to believe stupid shit. All it takes is a handsome man (Muhammad despite not being pictured ever, Black Jesus, and Mel Brooks King Of the Jews) and a few silly words. It's full proof, and might I add that it helps me feel a kinship with whoever it was that created and propagated the other religions for I too am filled with divine inspiration and also never want to work again.

I'm worried about my sweet tooth though, I think it may be developing diabetes.

There, right fucking there in one sentence I have evoked painful moaning in SOMEONE who read that. God damn the power of carefully chosen and organized words. Makes me feel all good and stuff.

I wonder though if I will be able to actually convert my speech patterns to E-prime and if I can adjust to using lower case 'i' instead of upper case when talking about myself because honestly I don't think I've earned the upper case just yet and I am not so arrogant to think that I could just pretend that I have. I'm not a fucker like the rest of you English speaking bastards. You all make me sick. Anyhoo, give me money once I get the Church of the Grand Bastard off the ground and into a giant lake of money and concubines.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8Nc8RCLy1s&feature=autoplay&list=PL65A3B93B84A50BE2&index=176&playnext=2