People In Jail Are More Social Than You Are

I am absolutely convinced that technology has ruined everything good in life… except for this blog of course. And I know that sounds super olde time, but for whatever fucking reason, people are so apt to be all “wooooooofacebookchat!” or “woooooootext!” or “wooooooskypeblowjobwithmymom!” and so on, yet when it comes down to actually being friends in real life, people are no where to be found. And I know what you’re thinking – “Well Kerry, you’re a narcissistic psychotic man-eater”, which, c’mon now people, it’s all persona based. I’m not reeeeeealllllly that bad. But all joking aside, if we accept certain plans and talk about it, don’t be missing when our real life friendship is supposed to happen. For fuck’s sake, I feel like I’m on To Catch A Predator….real life friendship…HA. Where’s the Ice Tea? I gotta change my laundry.

I don’t really know where this stems from but it just seems like people are so fucking caught up in texting and facebooking and all the other shit people do but when you try to make actual plans, the world’s smallest violin plays to the tune of “Tears From A Vagina” in Pussy Minor. And I will clarify that it’s not even me, because in my opinion, if you need my undivided attention 24/7 via my fucking phone, you can damn well hang out with me, fuck me, talk to me in person etc. Now, I’m going to get into a few examples here so feel free to take some more notes on why I hate people (you should have a fairly large room filled with 3 ring binders by now).

Remember that guy I was telling you about before? Yeah, the one with the pictures. Well, its only gotten worse. It’s like this kid would rather beat his dick to provocative pictures of me, than have me doing any of the sick and perverted things his mind can come up with in person. Please note that I haven’t sent this fucking queer anything of me, though I’m contemplating a sexy knee cap shot maybe later on tonight. Like really? Me sending you a picture of myself really fixes the fact that your dick isn’t in me? And I’ll be totally honest here…do I have a fucking bangin’ ass body? NO. I have no tits, thunder thighs, man shoulders, and a beer gut from drinking since I was 12 that I’ve been slowly wearing down at over the last few years. Looking at me doesn’t do much for me, never mind other people. I’m fucking hot because I have the face of a goddess, the personality you wish your girlfriend came close to, and I’m sexually insane. It makes no sense to me. He claims that he doesn’t want to “cheat” on his girlfriend, even though he initiated the entire thing and constantly begs me for pictures, which in my book is pretty much all the way there, and he’s just a short skip from the hood of my car or the living room floor, or wherever he doesn’t fuck me…but there you go! Fucking hiding behind a phone. A stupid piece of electronic bullshit that let’s you wipe your hands clean of “cheating”. Pretty sure your girlfriend would still get pissed if she read all the dirty nothings you’ve been sending me, but there’s the male thought process for you.

Example 2…the people who blow up your phone or messages and get pissed when you don’t respond. Sooooo, I have a job. A job I am lucky enough where I can generally work from home, make my own schedule,  and come and go as I please. That being said, IT IS STILL A FUCKING JOB. I usually drive around for half the day, sometimes just to meet one potential customer, get bitched at, treated like dog shit, and rely on the fucking retards of America to sign on the dotted line so I can pay my bills that month. If I don’t respond to a text, don’t text me back with a fucking sad face, don’t text me back with six more texts, don’t ask me why I hate you. As much as I would love to respond to “Hahahaha lol :)”, I’m currently involved in the Highway Olympic Event known as “Get the fuck over the right lane so you don’t miss your exit even though there are two lanes of traffic merging as you try to do this” AKA 95 South was constructed by Ray Charles. Maybe if I got paid $60+k a year salary to sit at a desk and do “work” I would be more than happy to respond, unfortunately my salaried pay is $20,800 before taxes, so I have to put a little hop in my step to make shit happen in my life. Sorry that fucking offends you and makes you think I hate you. Sorry that my “real” world is a little bit crazier than getting another text as I’m trying to text you back 20 minutes later to prevent you from jumping off the fucking Tobin. My responding to your text doesn’t affect our friendship one way or another. Text everybody in your phone book and have pointless conversations with them; I’d rather have you as a legit person in my life than a person who loses their shit over an unintentionally forgotten text message. The kicker though, is when you finally hang out with these people, and it’s like they have nothing to say or are nervous around you. How come you texted me 5,719 times in the last two days, but you can’t have a face to face conversation for the two hours we hung out? It’s mind blowing to me.

My final example here, because you know, I write my blogs like high school English papers, goes out to the people that love everything you post online – pictures, tweets, statuses, whatever. So you text them to see how things are going, ask to hang out, or whatever the case might be. It’s like pulling teeth. PEOPLE FUCKING LOVE THIS HIDING BEHIND A SCREEN GAME. They’re always too busy, don’t know what they’re doing, and all this other bullshit. COOL. So you have time to like everything I ever posted from 2007 to the present, but you don’t have time to go out and get drunk one of these nights. AWESOME. You were going to be my new fuck buddy, but you blew it dickwad. Thought we were friends, between all the “social” media interaction but you won’t even come to one of my parties. SOLID. It makes no fucking sense. It’s like people are so greedy and into themselves that they’ll just like a bunch of shit on everybody and then pussy out when it comes to actually being a real life human being. That’s like visiting your significant other in jail. You can totally fuck the shit out of each other but there’s going to be a big piece of plexi-glass between you so you can’t really talk or feel anything. Like having sex with a condom on.

I don’t know, I’m crazy, and maybe people are nervous around me, but shit! I enjoy people’s company. I hate when people are skittish or weird around me, and I really think a lot of it comes from this reliance on technology for communication. I want real life memories – fun times, good sex, strong drinks, lots of laughs, big emotions, loud music. I want to swim in life and not be able to breathe because I’m so interested in drowning in everything. It just seems like people want to hide behind gay ass facades because they’re too chicken shit to say the wrong thing and not be able to delete it or send a quick follow up “Sorry wrong text”. And because of that, people bore me. And because of that, I am constantly let down and use this blog to pretend I am liked and have people and friends in my life that want to have fun.

*7/10 people are agreeing with this post and are now going to be texting the person they’re interested in, but refuse to ask them to hang out, get dinner, watch a movie, or best of all, FUCK.