How the fuck do you option a blog? What is there to option? The title? The font?
Quotes by Hank Moody
Happy endings may get a bad rep, but they do happen. And when they do, they’re just as true as the unhappy ones.
I just threw up in my mouth a little. You had 20 centuries of halfway decent verse to choose from and you’re going with some minor Frosty?
I miss your smell. When you left, I couldn’t wash the sheets because I didn’t want to lose that completely… You. And… it fucked me up for a long time because I would wake up and I’d smell you and I’d think you were there. And that would… My heart would break all over again. I think that’s why I go in for the kiss all the time. I know, yeah. I think I’m going for… another hit.
You know, as much as I love to hear about Bill’s failings as a parent, as a human being I do not like to be compared to him in the same sentence. It creeps me out.
Look, I don’t want to take sides here, but I want to say, for the record, categorically, never.. never stick a finger up a grown man’s ass without warning. Don’t do it.
Just the fact that people seem to be getting dumber and dumber. I mean, we have all this amazing technology, and yet… computers have turned into basically four-figure wank machines. The internet was supposed to set us free, democratize us, but… But all it’s really given us is Howard Dean’s aborted candidacy and… 24-hour day acces to kiddy porn. People… They don’t write anymore. They blog. Instead of talking, they text… No punctuation, no grammar, L.O.L. this and L.M.F.A.O. that. It just seems to me that it’s just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people in a protolanguage that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the King’s English.
All right, so, at the end of the day, if you can do anything else… telemarketing, pharmaceutical sales, or ditch digging, major league umpire… I would suggest that you do that, because being a writer blows.
What am I talking about? What am I talking about? I don’t know half the fucking time what I’m talking about.
B to the I to the double L. What’s up, my nig nog? Well, you should have called. I wouldn’t have answered, but you could’ve left a message, which I would have quickly erased.