Tuesday, June 10, 2008


You’re thinking it, but afraid to say it.  And I have no fear of saying it.  Every word that comes out of my filthy fucking mouth is the stuff of a repressed society.  And you, as an audience, take this bile and scream for more to be shoved up your ass.  That’s what the audience wants.  They want to be abused, ridiculed and told to go fuck themselves.  And they’ll keep coming back, that’s the sad thing.  That’s the beautifully sad thing.  When you want it that much, maybe I don’t want to spit at you as much.  Ever thought of that?  No, I didn’t think so. 

Hate warms you.  Hate makes you realize that you’re not such a bad person.  And I’ll never tire of doling it out.



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