As Sweet As Used Jock Strap

Looking back at the time when I posted about how it's only a matter a time before I sign on the dotted line bullshit, I would have been wise to not have mentioned that in the first place. Fuckballs. I may have jinxed my own destiny.

So this is how the year starts: a bang so silent and so minute that nobody heard or saw it.

Now it begins, the ballad of big nothing. I should be disappointed. I should be pissed off because I hyped myself to the opportunity that never was. Instead of moving towards an angelic tomorrow, my present is stuck with the old bones in purgatory that should have decalcified when 2010 called it a year, the very same bones that I've been keeping inside my closet for far too long.

However, violent feelings have instead triggered and been displaced by this maniacal obsession to succeed, to mold flesh into the skeletons and bring them to life, to draw blood from stone, to turn water into wine, to rush blood to the crotch area and turn a limp penis into a mighty, erect tower of power that Baal itself would call a friend. Disgusting, yes. And a good thing, too.

This is simply a road block that I have encountered hundreds of time in my life. I'll definitely find a way to turn the tides and engulf this island of woe where I confide my failures and shortcoming. They must be tucked under the deep, where things exist and don't at the same time.

Okay, this entry is simply getting stranger by the second. Let me just end you with this token of thought: Things would be much more difficult when you deny your way, but would I dare say, not to my dismay,

"Bring it bitches! Thy shall keep you at bay

with my mighty mind, gaie-

ty, full of mirth, sun's lighting rays

burns your dark intentions! I say, NAY!'