Thursday, December 25, 2008
Shangi here, wishing you all a Happy Holiday. Whatever holiday you foolish theists are celebrating today. I'm here to spread the Holiday Hate. You know, a teacher once accused me of being an anarchist. Maybe she's right. But I'm also right when I say she was a fucking cunt working for The Man. And The Man ain't cool. So MadShangi says "fuck Christmas."
Not too long ago I deleted a girl off my Facebook. My MSN. I threw away her phone number. But she phoned me today to tell me she was thinking of me. On Christmas. I wanted to die. I told her I'd call her back. I'm not going to. Why? Because right now I'm writing this blog. And to me, that's a better thing to do with my timre right now.
So after I picked myself off of the floor, I crawled over to my chair, sat down and logged into my blog. Why? I don't know why. Maybe I'm a mean guy. Maybe I'm a pretty nasty shit. Maybe I'm such a horrible person everyone is always telling me I am. I'm feeling like a Scrooge this Holiday Season, and I just want to say "Bah Hambug and Fuck You"
There is no Santa, kids. That was your mommy and daddy all along, and when they're gone who's going to give you your presents? NO ONE! Anyone reading this blog right now better copy and paste this and send it to the local authorities. Because I'm issuing a threat. A threat against Christmas. Fuck Christmas and Fuck The Christmas Spirit, Fuck Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer. Anyone that worships the false gods Jesus, Jehova, or Santa I'm going to send anthrax to their houses through the mail. Maybe. Could this be satire? You decide!
Maybe I have designs on being the Andy Kauffman of the Blogger Sphere. Maybe I just hate your fucking guts. Why am I being so nasty? I like being nasty. I'm a nasty guy. I'm a raving lunatic. I'm raving on and on. And I love it. No one can stop me. I paint imaginary thoughts of horror and blood. I'm going to download and watch the original "Black Christmas" and watch it over and over. I rented the Dark Knight, but it won't play on my PlayStation 2. Can't play it on my DVD. 'Cause I broke that fucking thing, too. Long time ago. Who really reads this shit anyway? Maybe I should compile all my posts into one massive book and sell it? That seems to be the trend nowadays "My Life As A Whore" seems to the gist of it for some of these "bestsellers." Shee-it.
I hope Santa gets murdered in the North Pole. But that won't happen, because Santa isn't real. I'm not real, either. There's really no Patrick Doran. Only the person who is typing this. But it's not Patrick Doran. Patrick is dead. There's only Zool..