True Art

So you know how people say you should be “gracious” and, oh what’s that word… means you should let things go and move on… That’s what people say to you after someone rips your heart out, stomps on it, calls strangers over to laugh at it’s pathetic remnants on the ground and yet all your friends can muster up to tell you is “at least it wasn’t your head, be gracious.” … Are you fucking kidding me? You want to know what I’m doing right now? Right this second? I’m mentally filing this memory under your file with a memo to myself that says this: “Note to self, next time so and so is heartbroken, be sure to lay on extra vinegar and extra salt to the wounds.” Fucker. What kind of “friend” says that? You know what a TRUE friend would say? Something along the lines of “hey, how about we skip work and go dump two pounds of bologna all over his car ‘cause that shit causes rust in the sun.” Now THAT’S what I call a good friend. Been there, done that, would do that again.

I don’t have friends like that. I have all goody-two-shoes friends. I don’t know why. They don’t really fit with me. And they only get disappointed in me. They act all surprised when I say things like “God I wish that kid would choke on his fucking lollypop so he’d shut the fuck up.” Or “I’d choose a cat over a human anytime, humans suck and the world could do with less of them.” I mean really? Those aren’t that bad, I’ve said way worse while watching porn.