Sure, I Would Love To Find Drugs For You And Look At Pictures Of Your Bong

Leave it to the fucking new kid in my office again to take over my blog. This kid is currently 2/2 and we’ve never even had sex. I’ve been around him ONCE. And he already has created 2 posts. The sad thing is that I never even have to fucking be in my office. But of course, the special ones always shine through. Today’s topic is drugs!

This fucking kid requests me on facebook, sends me a message freaking out and asking me to text him. So I humor him. He’s looking for pot. I get my pot from his friend who got him the job. WHOM HE SITS NEXT TO IN THE OFFICE. Yes, you read that correctly. So that’s issue number 1. Issue number 2 is that he is asking me to meet up with him and smoke him up. Sureeeee, I’d love to drop everything I’m doing, fuck up my work day, drive to Sharon, sell you MY weed, and drive home for $20. $20? Ain’t nobody got time for that. And this is all because he’s too impatient to wait for real live drug dealers to text him back. The icing on the cake though, is that he starts getting fucking smart with me, you know rude. He called me confused. So I told him that I wasn’t confused, he was just impatient. He told me to stop acting hard. I told him that was just my personality and it wasn’t an act. I gave him a free pass for telling a fucking broad to stop acting hard. He will not stop texting me. So finally I just tell him to chill out and relax and I’m sure someone will return his text. He started putting my words in quotation marks – Alright ‘‘dude”, I’ll “chill out bro”. And then proceeded to end the conversation with “I just thought we could be cool and mature about this”. YOU’RE A FUCKING GRADUATE FROM SOME SMALL ASS PREP SCHOOL IN EAST CUTTY, YOU LIVE AT YOUR PARENTS HOUSE IN SHARON, AND YOU’RE HITTING UP A BITCH FOR DRUGS THAT SHE MUST DELIVER TO YOU. FUCK!!!!!!! Yet I’m the one acting immature. OK fag boy. If I had a taint, your tongue would be on it right now. Cleaning off my nut sack residue. That’s how much I hate you. Oh, and I’m pretty sure the word “blaze” came out of his mouth. Sorry dude, can’t bring you weed. I’m too busy cleaning off my Ashanti CD and popping it into my 6-disk changer. Da Fuq? I would’ve totally posted the texts on here, but he types like he lost all of his fingers to Diabetus and you can’t understand any of it with all the typos and shit.

Why do people choose me to look for their drugs? I’m not a drug dealer. Am I that much of a shady bid that people assume that my house is filled with prescription bottles, pounds of weed, and a liquor cabin—well ok, maybe the liquor cabinet part is correct. And yeah, I can get you anything you could possibly want or need. BUT I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO. People love using me to get them from point A to point B. I don’t mind doing it, but seriously, playing chutes and ladders for people is fucking annoying. Why hit me up in the first place? “Oh well my dude was out tonight”...so you hit up a biddie you haven’t spoken to in months and just pray to God I haven’t gotten my shit together enough that I don’t talk to scumbags anymore? Thanks for keeping me so high in your hopes bro. The kicker is people posting online “ANYONE HAVE ANY MOLLY?!” or whatever. Oooh! I have dat rave shyyyt. I need to make some extra money to get my ass to DGAF this weekend. Comment: “I do! Call me dude – 774 239 6590. Or better yet, come to my house – 32 Zanzabar Street in Mansfield. My stash is in my backpack hanging on the door. Just use the code word “nugget” when you come in.” Like how fucking retarded can you be? Just send an open invitation to have some smart assholes rob you, or better yet, have the cops at your door for a federal crime called distribution. “Well Kerry, now that shit shouldn’t even be illegal. It’s mind opening!”. Ok…I see your point sir…but the thing here is that IT’S STILL A FUCKING CLASSIFIED DRUG THAT IS ILLEGAL. So whatever you learned in your junior year of high school about freedom of speech and that wonderful sense of safety and entitlement from living in your parent’s mansion, seriously, just take all that shit and and stick it so far up your ass that it comes out of your mouth backwards you fucking idiot.

I follow the policy of try everything once. I don’t mind people doing drugs or fucking around or whatever floats your banana boat. But I just want to point out here that no fucking drug is good for you. Mr. Mackey was 100% correct in saying that drugs er bad mmkay. No matter how much fun I’ve had or funny shit as happened, there is equally a disgusting amount of money spent, bad situations I’ve been in, and people I’ve hurt via drugs and booze. I have an addictive personality, and I know I shouldn’t touch half the shit I do. Could I out drink any fucking biddie? Absolutely, but that’s not a good thing. So this shout out goes out to the people who don’t fucking get it – I can’t fucking stand when people post dumb shit on the internet about how wasted they are or a picture of their new “piece”. You’re 24 years old, obviously you were fucking blasted this weekend because there isn’t fuck else to do otherwise when you’re 24 except go to the bar and pray that one of the sluts you take home will end up bearing you children some day. And yeah, ok, I’ve seen some pretty cool pipes and shit and if you’ve got a cool one, sure post it, whatever. But it gets to the point where people are pathetically using that shit to make friends and get attention. You don’t see pill heads instagraming a picture of their brand spankin’ new $5 bill they’re about to blow lines with. You know why? You’re going to get just as fucked up with a hundo as you will with a $1 dollar bill. You’re going to get just as baked smoking out of a coke can, as you will smoking out of a 3 foot bong. You’re going to get just as drunk drinking Poland Spring vodka as you will drinking Ciroq. “No Kerry! That’s a fucking lie! I get way more fucked up doing _____.” No, you fucking don’t asshole. You just feel way more cooler telling the internet about it and posting a picture in hopes that bitches will be on your dick. It’s all about preference. My preference is 1800 tequila, but you bet your ass if it started raining Wild Turkey, I would be outside with a funnel. Nobody is here to judge and think about what type of addiction they posted online during the Bourbon Apocalypse of 2012. On that note, I highly recommend that everyone try acid.

I hate people’s stupidity. I hate people’s need to appear to be a certain way based on how they destroy their body. I hate people asking me for drugs because they know I hang out with skeeves. I mostly just hate everything unless it makes a cute animal noise or wants to eat me out. And I usually grow to dislike those things as well if either of them bite me. Look, no one gives a fuck how you get fucked up, because it’s not cool anymore, it doesn’t earn you any friends except other people who are equally as fucked up as your are, and look at me, five years later and I’m still THAT girl. If you want to get fucked up, cool, go for it, reach for the moon, touch the moon, and then eat the moon because it’s made out of cheese. But don’t fucking act like a cool guy on the internet looking for the hook up. It just makes Tinkerbell look more bad ass then you.

*7/10 people can only stomach my blog when they’re super fucked up. And most of the time, they blow chunks after.