You know what I really miss?
Someone stole my childhood and I wish I could get it back.
Brighton, UK 2001
Why do I have this weird bollocking feeling inside me recently? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been writing less and less. Instead, I’ve been extremely selective on what I’m saying and I found myself posting more and more photos, useless tripe and other bullcrap.
I used to be able to say anything that I want, air out my grievances, bitch, whine and whinge about people, experiences and situations but for some strange reason, it feels as if someone put a fucking gag order on me and now I have to fucking censor myself all the fucking time.
I MISS MY FREEDOM!
Fuck each and every one of you. The bollocking stops here and I’m gonna reclaim my old self back.
I should be able to say what I want and when I want it. Afterall, this is *MY* blog and you’re just a fuckin reader. You can always fuck off where the sun doesn’t shine *IF* you have problems because NOBODY’S GOT A FUCKIN SHOTGUN POINTED TO YOUR SCROTUM/LABIA/RECTUM TELLING YOU TO READ MY WEBSITE. I say live and let live… and don’t bother coming back if you got problems with what I have to say. You must be a masochist if you have to come back over and over again. Besides, none of my other 161,000+ (June 2006) readers are interested about you.
I repeat. I *should* be able to say what I want.
I’m sure you’re all gonna agree with me. Yes?
Even Bitchboy of the Washington Blade, who gave my little narcissistic shrine a mention (thanks doll) will agree with me.
PPSS. Alice from Myspace you can fuck off my case now. I’ll see you in hell. I suggest that you borrow your dad’s revolver, point it to your eyesockets and shoot em till the sheep cry bah-bah-bah-lah-lah-lah.