In my iPod: Declaration - David Cook
State of mind: all fuck up
You know sometimes I am fucking proud of my natural aptitude and tomfoolery in getting myself into fuck up situations which most people wouldn't even dream of. Like surviving on 3 cans of Pringles and 3 litters of Pepsi for a whole week (different flavors of course); arguing with a transvestite after groping it's fuck up breast and not paying for it because it didn't feel like what it said it was supposed to (I am not cheap but I ain't gonna pay if I fucking get rip off); jumping down an unfamiliar downhill course without any fucking brakes; my illicit amour with a newly married women that lasted for more than a year and my personal favorite - puking all over two ladies who were giving me head.
If you have been following this blog, you will know the level of forthrightness that I share with my readers. Even though I have been steadily losing readers because of my disregard to the feelings and disrespectfulness to institution of beliefs and order, yet with my head held high I am still proud to say that I am not a fucking pseudo trying to win your approval by sugar coating the truth. I am what I am and I don't not need someone to tell me what I can say and cannot say. So to the newly appointed Information, Communications, and Culture Minister of Malaysia – Rais Yatim – with much honor, I would gladly pull down my pants and bend over , so that you can fucking kiss my hairy ass if you think you can put a muzzle on me. You can't mute me motherfucker!
Sorry for the side track but I had to get it off my fucking chest. As I was saying, I am not fucking ashamed of what I did because fucking up is a fucking part of my life. I believe that by accepting the fact that I am all fucked up and letting it out for the world to see or read, I am able to learn from my past fucking up and be less fucked up in the fucking future of my fuck up existence.
But not today, somehow I am just not in the fucking mood to explicitly explain my fuck up moment. But I 'll give you some clues on how the fuck this fuck up incident fucking happened.
It fucking involves: KFC in the car - greasy fingers - using the palm to shift gear - thinking that I have fucking shifted into reverse gear - turning my head back - car moving forward instead.
You know what, I take back all the nasty things I say about lady drivers because right about now. I am feeling like a fucking scum behind the wheels. Fucking up my barely 6 month old toy is one thing but I felt like a fucking jackass for letting my buddy down because I promised him that I was going to borrow him my car for his wedding day. Fuck man, I am so sorry.Fuck this crap. So I guess I will be leaving it in the workshop and hoping that I will see a fully restored car when I fucking get back from India.