September 2011
Putting Rule 34 to the Test
- A text message conversation between me and my boyfriend.
- Me: Steven just made me Google "My Little Pony Transformers porn".
- Cory: O.o Eww
- Me: Even more eww: It exists.
- Cory: ...wat
- Me: Pinky Pie getting rammed by Optimus Prime's robo-dick.
- Cory: Arggfggofyjxeifsuh
- Me: That's exactly what I said.
I’m sarcastic. I admit it because I have no choice. My sense of humor, my personality - nay, the very core of my being - is absolutely marinating in it.
Many people mistake this for being mean when it’s not intended as such. There is no bad mojo or cruelty behind the words. They’re jokes. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, though I can’t say I’m going out of my way to spare them either.
This week, however…
Oh ho hooooo boy, this week…
I’m starting up my third day of nicotine-free-ness. You know what that means? It’s not sarcasm anymore, sweetheart. It’s pure, seething, unbridled hatred for stupidity and anything that goes along with it.
People I usually find barely-tolerable will be torn to shreds in the next couple of weeks. Even my friends are walking on egg shells, so the people I don’t really even like don’t stand a chance. Basically,
“It looked like a mental hospital, so it was probably the high school.”
—Steven King, The Talisman
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