First, I don’t hate anybody. Yes, there’s a grip of I people I’ve encountered that I don’t like for damn sure and who would like a bunch of bad apples full of worms? Can’t blame me for that, yet some of you try. I make fun of myself a’plenty in writing and with my artwork. I don’t dislike like LGBTQ folks neither, Pete Espinosa was one my family’s best friends growing up and I loved the guy. He was on the funniest and daintiest people I’ve ever known and he loved us as much as we loved him.
What I don’t like is spoiled rotten entitled self-aggrandizing mentalities of people whom have limited worldviews and dodge reality. That just so happens to be a large majority of millenials. I have no dislike of obese people, I was the fat tubby kid who didn’t want to fight and I got my ass kick a’plenty growing up. It just so happens that a lot of these spoiled rotten entitled self-aggrandizing millenial also happen to be gender bending fugly fat people. That makes them and their world view funny to me. If your gay or bi or lesbian or identify as a the opposite gender, that’s great. I don’t care. But accept that you were born in the body you were born in and be gay, or lesbian or whatever you are and get over the penis envy and the penis shame. For fuck sake. Tuck your junk up under your butt-crack, strap on a dildo and ride the walrus, but accept what you are and stop taking all the hormones pills, they’re making you a ridiculous, embarrassing laughing joke.
But for the record, I don’t hate anybody. I don’t threaten anybody… not in writing, not in my graphic art, not in the real world. Now, as for the unpleasant candidness and discriptiveuse of vocabulary and visual art, I’m not Jesus, never claimed to be. I am and always acknowledged that I am no saint. I have also stated countless times over and countless times more that I write and make graphic art as a means of therapy. Getting all that shit off my chest when necessary keeps me from harming myself and others… You’re all welcome. And if ever encounter a therapist that is legit instead of of sleazy easy-answer peddling sac of turds then maybe with their help I’ll one day no longer need to vent in the ways I do but. But until then, the shit will continue to pour out of me on the digital tear-stained pages of Dear Diary.
Consume it or don’t, but man the fuck up and quit hiding behind faceless throwaway accounts and ambiguity like a needle-dick. Grow some balls. Be confident enough in what your doing and what you’re about to wear like a badge of honor. I do, not out of pride but in truth. I am what I am because in the real world someone has to be and so that someone will be me…. I AM ENLIGHTED. Call me a pussy to my face, or say it in a comment using your real face and your real name and real contact info or shut the fuck up.
I’ll pose the problem I have with the work at large so that there will be know need for Tairee (jeez, I even hate spelling out it so fucking clingy…) and her groupof thinkers from a law school to figure it out…
So, a man can be a woman huh? Well, then I suppose debt can be profit. And we’re not legalizing drugs, we’re decriminalizing drugs. It’s opposite day.
Yes a man can give birth…to a smelly nasty stinky turd.