The Dude Abides

This is my hope.  This is my plea.  This is my prayer.  Hello readers, welcome back.  I know you enjoyed my last post as much as I enjoyed writing it.  That, however, was more than likely the peak of my writing, as it was over seventeen hundred words long.  It was pretty glorious putting that asshole in their rightful place, but I think I’ll move on to something different tonight.  Mainly because they probably didn’t read it.  Don’t worry, the change won’t be a major one.  It’ll be a different asshole perhaps.  That’s all.  Either way I’ll enjoy it, and so will you.  But first, a pitiful bitching session of my ongoing heartbreak.

As I was hoping, pleading, and praying in the beginning, I want so badly to not feel so fucking depressed anymore.  It has been two weeks, two entire weeks, and I cannot shake this feeling.  It hurts just as much as the first day.  My mind is fucking consumed with thinking about it.  I’ve done everything I could.  I’ve gone out, I’ve stayed home, anything to get my mind away from this fuck of a rut I seem to have stuck myself in.  Me doing this now is, again, probably because I’ll soon see her at church.  Everything comes rushing back.  All the emotions that I’ve felt, as hard as I’ve tried to push them away, always find me again when I see her.  And it blows.  To see her standing up there, and knowing that I let her slip away from me, it kills me inside.  I want so badly to say everything possible to convince her otherwise, but that is ridiculously selfish thinking.  She’s happier this way.  I have to come to terms with that, but I refuse to let that thought enter my mind.  But, as terrible as this feeling is, I’d rather me feel this way than have a relationship with her that doesn’t make her happy.  I have always been one to acommodate others, contrary to my posts perhaps.  If I like you, I’ll do damn near anything to make your life easier.  It’s what I view as common courtesy.  So, it stands to reason that I’d rather her be happy like this than keep her to myself, where she can’t spread the awesomeness that is her personality to people that really need it.  The problem is, I don’t like this reasoning.  Ugh, I hate every damn thing about this situation so, so much.  I wish for somebody to blame, but nobody is available.  I just wish…for no more hurt.  Please, no more.

Now, I shall change the subject, because I wish to speak of this no longer, as it is a rather annoying topic that seems to keep appearing in my posts.  It is now time for me to rant, and time for you to learn.  This one is all about minor annoyances.  Here you go.

Alright, here is a minor topic that concerns some recent media.  It’s minor enough to not be that big of a deal, but big enough to qualify as something for me to rant about.  And it’s not leukemia, fuckers.

I’m sure you have all heard of the recent passing of the King of Pop.  If you haven’t, well, you live in a fucking cave and need to step out and advance a couple millenia.  Now, Michael caught a bunch of shit in his life, and most of it was probably well-deserved.  Yeah, he was bit of a creep, no contesting you there.  But what I despise, and heard some dumb fuck talking about recently, was boycotting his and others similar to Michael’s music because of their personal lives.  This does not sit well with me.  But, if you wish to do that, fine.  I’m going to dig up some of your shitty past, and then I’ll try and discredit everything you ever do with your fucking skeleton filled closet.  How’s that for fair?  Hmm?

It’s not just Michael either.  Prince is another one.  Sexuality in question, so they just don’t listen to his music.  Do you know what this is?  It’s fucking ignorant.  Prince may crack the Top 10 Guitarists of all time, and because he’s a little bit strange, you don’t listen to him?  What if Jimmy Paige were a bit fruity?  Would you stop listening to your beloved fucking Stairway?  (Number one most overrated song ever…ever.)  What if it was revealed, to a massively shocked world, that Freddie Mercury was gay?  Would you all hate Queen?  For all of you dumbasses who like today’s rap, what if (insert fuck awful rapper here) were a bit hoity toity?  Would you boycott their music too?  Granted, in that specific situation, it wouldn’t be a such a bad thing to stop listening to today’s piss poor excuse for rap.

It doesn’t matter though.  You will more than likely continue in your ignorance.  Was Michael a bit odd?  Fuckin’ a.  That does not, however, detract from the fact that he has the greatest selling album of all time.  Over 100 million copies world wide.  Nobody else even sniffs the crotch, the one he so often grabbed, of that number.  He also had over ten number one singles.  I would also make an argument for the greatest dancer ever.  Simply put, he was, and probably always will be, the King of Pop.  So, in closing, please, musically ignorant people, shut the fuck up.  For what it’s worth,  I’m going to go listen to Billie Jean, When Doves Cry, Smooth Criminal, and finish it off with some Purple Rain.  You can stay at home, play your Skynyrd whilist beating off.  It’s the only way you get it up now anyways.  The grand finale happens when you come over the American flag and the end of Freebird, right?  You’re welcome.

Now, that will do it for me tonight.  Significantly shorter than the night previous, but I totally expected it to be so.  Could you imagine if I just kept cranking out 1700 word posts day after day?  You people would become as smart as me pretty fucking fast.  But no, I wish to delay the process.  I wish to keep you thirsting.  And you do.  Every night, I quench your thirst.  It’s a give and take.  I give, you take.  And you love me for it.  Fuck, I love me for it.

Until next time America.  Take it easy.

The Dude

P.S.  I still love you.