Happy F’ing New Year

Just me and an eight ounce glass of seltzer.   Sweat seeps out my pores.   There’s the big looming question–Pretend to have fun tonight with a bunch of “friends” or go off somewhere far away, get wasted in a diner, fuck a disease-infested whore somewhere and then come back months later, bearded, speak only in Farsi and just sit there selling guns, crack anything to keep me afloat, put some money away as three months later my AIDS-infested baby will pop out of the bitch’s womb.  Hard choice if you ask me.

2013!  Woo-hoo!  I can hardly wait.   Here’s how I see it.   I’m gonna shit honesty.   Yeah, this might turn some of you off but really…do I fucking care?   I wasn’t put here to have everyone on this planet like me.   As a matter of fact, I could do a little toilet flushing.    Get in.  My fingers are riding the handle.   Go back to your homes, your countries, as your energy does not truly resonate with me.

Feels like eons that I’ve been taking care of one too many people.  How it felt as if I was walking on egg shells, fearful that any crack, I’d fall through a haunted abyss.  Mid-flight, an ogre would gobble pieces of me up.   As I’d take my last breath, that ogre would be the individual I was tending to.   How fucking convenient!

2013, what is it?  It’s the year of me deciding whether or not I got time for you or not.  Be prepared to wait a long fucking time because ladies, gentlemen and ogres in disguise, I’m taking care of myself first.  My health, my writings, my passions, my everything.  Call me a narcissist, my middle finger will be waiting for you.

So, happy fucking new year!