November 03, 2007
Foul mood, part II
Originally published July 2, 2005
I get advice. BOY, do I get advice from people who don't have a fucking clue what they're talking about. Advice is EASY to give. YOU don't have to live it.
I challenge ANYBODY to go through what I'VE BEEN THROUGH over the last three years and THEN lecture me about life. YOU walk ONE MILE in MY shoes and tell me how easy it is. Fuckwits.
Face a horrible death when you've already seen TWO people you loved die from it. Do that while the woman you loved is fucking her brains out with another man, right in front of your son and your friends. Lose everything you worked all your life for at the same time.
Get bored at your mama's house one day and TRY to walk around the block, with a catheter bag strapped to your leg and staples all over your belly. Make it 100 yards down the road and run out of gas. You can't walk any farther, and you're not certain that you can make it back home, either.
Sit on the curb and cry. Then, drag your ass home. I FUCKING DID THAT!!!
I also saw Quinton score his first goal in a soccer game after Jennifer showed up 15 minutes late for the game with DRIED CUM in her hair. She'd been busy fucking all night long, and she ENJOYED the disgust I displayed when I saw her.
I've been there and done that.
Until you have, just shut the fuck up with advice.
I'll tell you something else, too. If all you ever get is a "pinstroke" from something like that, consider yourself a lucky person. That shit almost killed me, and sometimes I still wish that it did.
I've not been a happy camper for a while now.
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