Pop Culture can *BLEEP* my *BLEEP*ing *BLEEP*.

Most days, I have this urge to just abandon modern “civilisation,” hole up in some mahoosive castle somewhere, live in complete catatonic seclusion and obscurity, and never be heard from again.

Can you blame me?
Most everything that occurs in the world right now seems hellbent on annoying the BLEEP out of me and everyone else, and yet everyone else and I swallow it all down with a whore’s grimace. (Oh, what a lovely image.)

You’ve got these females who you know of the existence of – whether you want to ( you don’t ), or not ( you do ) – who are a disgrace to the female gender.
The one that talks of bluffing with her muffin.
The one with the giant anus who commits blatant fraud.
Lindsay Lohan.
And on it goes.

And you’ve got these males who everyone hears about, of all ages and creeds, who are worse than the females.
The one running for president.
The one who cheats on his wife. (A pick’n’mix option.)
Justin Bieber.
And on it goes.


Am I the only one who has livermorium of the soul…?

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