Archive for prostitution

That Is Too Much To Ask

Posted in Stop with tags , , , , , , , on February 12, 2011 by Suge White

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I hate my friends. You know the type. They are the ones that want you to help them move or need a jump when their car dies. I know I should be more willing to help but can’t you see I have more important things to do? Your ill-timed phone call just interrupted my TV watching or an attempt to string myself up in a closet like David Carridine during an act of sexual asphyxiation, with the help of a local hooker named Sasha. Don’t you know these hookers charge by the hour? My friends should know by now that I will party with them, help them in a fight, or, in a pinch, help them apply sun screen to their back in a less than heterosexual manner (just to make them feel uncomfortable). However, anything more than that is asking alot. You want me to go to your wedding? Will there be an open bar? You want me to babysit your kids for a few hours? Can I give them some codeine and a shot of whiskey so they’ll pass out and shut the fuck up? You want me to give you a ride to the store in exchange for gas money? Do I look like a fucking taxi driver to you? So for future reference, unless you have a dead body rolled up in that rug, stop being lazy and carry it your damn self.

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Get Away From Me…. Or At Least Stop Talking

Posted in Fucked Up People, Stop with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 13, 2010 by Suge White

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Let me reiterate to you how much I hate people.  I hate people so much that if I had a choice between talking to a stranger and getting fucked by a ravenous wombat, I would seriously consider subjecting myself to any number of sexually transmitted wombat diseases just to avoid talking to the likely idiot. Seriously, how bad could love with a syphilitic wombat be? However, if I talk to the stranger, he may tell me about his mortgage, about his job, or about his mothers arthritic hip. Lets be honest. Who wants to hear about any of that shit? Sorry pal, I don’t care about your kids and since you insisted on showing me a picture of them that you have stuffed away in your wallet, it’s only fair that I tell you that your daughter looks like Andre the Giant and your son looks like Boy George. Needless to say, you should pull out next time you hop in the sack with that handsome broad you call a wife. Perhaps my words are a little crass but so is the sight of your hideous children. This brings me back to my ultimate point. Please don’t talk to me. I don’t care if you’re Jesus fucking Christ. On a side note, I would imagine that talking to Jesus would be a real downer. He’s got all sorts of uncomfortable topics to discuss. “So my mother says I am the son of God but I’m pretty sure she just doesn’t want to tell me that she fucked the whole village and my father could be anyone but is probably the papyrus salesman with bad knees and a penchant for boy love. Oh and did I mention that I was crucified?”. For the love of your supposed father, shut the fuck up!  And no, I’m not interested in putting “the body of Christ” in my mouth, you fucking creep!

Suge Will Not Be Getting Down Like That

Posted in Disaster, Fucked Up People, Great American Pastimes, Shit We Do, Stop...Look...Listen, Technological Disaster with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 23, 2009 by Suge White

twitterI fucking hate Twitter… not that I’ve ever used it, nor do I intend to, but still.  I’m all set with knowing, or caring, what a complete stranger is doing at any given time.  I fucking hate people enough as is.  I would hate people even more if I had to hear about the shit they do with their miserable lives.  Just the same people shouldn’t care what I’m doing at all hours of the day.  Tweet“I just went to bring some trail mix and canned fruit to the food bank but then I got hungry on the way and decided to have a picnic instead.  It was fun”  Tweet“Who the fuck would eat goat cheese?  Fucking weirdos”  Tweet“Why does the guy on the side of the road asking for spare change have nicer shoes then me?”   That’s what you would get.  Know who needed to know any of that?  I don’t know why people think THEIR lives are so special that they need to share every detail with the world.  Tweet – “I think I’m going to make a spinach dip for the party tonight”… good for you, spinach dip sucks.  Tweet“My girlfriend and I are going to Cancun tomorrow. Can’t wait”… awesome, your girl is probably going to get gang banged by a mariachi band or kidnapped by a drug cartel and forced into prostitution.  Tweet“I just took the meanest shit and then wiped my ass with my roommates toothbrush. LOL”…  o.k., maybe that’s a bad example. I’d be pretty excited to read that comment anywhere.  Matter of fact, Conor (Local Goon) and I have discussed doing this.  Go to a party or to a buddies house to hang out and wipe your ass with their toothbrush.  Maybe that’s a little too much… but then again maybe not.  I digress.  Twitter sucks.  If you feel like putting your days activities into words get a pen pal or a fucking journal but please leave me out of it.