dear california

out of all the mistakes i've made in my life... like pulling my two kids out of a crackroach goatscrunt black hole of evil... like taking care of my mother for the last ten years, trying to inspire her to live the rest of her life and not just die... wasting ten years of my life trying to have 'friends', whatever the fuck those are... i've made a lot of horrible mistakes that i never intended to make. mistakes that i never intentionally made, and the only thing i could blame besides myself, was the fact that i was trying to socialize, when socializing is about the dumbest thing i could ever do. i've made a lot of mistakes that have wasted years of my life, which makes nonsmokers look like pussies for bitching and whining about 'every cigarette takes five minutes off my life'... your frowns are too offensive to me, stick a fuckin' cigarette in there, jesus blasphemous christ. yeah, just because i've had to deal with other people, i've gotten fucked so many times, i don't even recognize my own ass. i can see the light at the end of its tunnel. out of all the mistakes, out of all the regrets, i have to tell you, california... and let me put this in a little tighter perspective for you... all those other mistakes were not one hundred percent my intention, but going to california? one hundred percent fuckin' oops on my part. sorry. that was like stepping into the wrong classroom. or clicking 'chat', and seeing teenagers with pokemon toys. oops, sorry, wrong room, i should not be in here. that's how i feel about you, california. spending the last year of my life in your toxic concrete hell, with all your hateful, apathetic, plastic clones with credit card addictions, your fascist insecure security guards, your fake mannequin women who refused to look at me, or admit that i exist in their perfect little world... it was like shaving my nuts with a belt sander, or a potato grinder, it was like fucking a rocket launcher, it was like spooning with the pope! do you have any idea how much i hate you, california. you're the most selfish, self worshipping state in the most greedy, self obsessed country on this planet, a country that actually abuses the word 'patriotism' like it's in style. you are sick, california. you are fucking sick in the head. where were all the metalheads? where were all the potheads? did they get sick of you, too? what the fuck is wrong with you california? you couldn't give me one nice day, for the year i was there. what a fucking waste of time. you fucking self righteous, self glorified, i'm so glad to be back in seattle where the rain makes people kill themselves, it's so much more wonderful up here, what the fuck was i thinking wasting the last year of my potential metal future trying to start a metal band in fucking california, god, i can't tell you how sick that makes me, it's like a knife in the stomach! what a fucking mistake! i lost a lot of respect for my metal heroes, the ones in california, why the fuck do you have to live there of all places? are you not aware yet that this is a round planet you're on? is california really that much of a self obsessed delusion, that you honestly don't see the rest of the world unless there's a plane involved? god, you make me sick, california. that commercial was worst of all, advertising yourselves outside of a pop song, 'come to california, see how awesome we are'. fine print: but we won't even notice you. your stage show politics, fucking even your weed sucked. hey, world, don't go to california, their weed sucks worse than the people. fuck you, california. i had a horrible time there, you have no clue how to party, your streets are filthy, lined with homeless people, and you have no idea why. clean up your fucking trash, you rich fucking bums. you wanna know why they're homeless? they're sick of you! ask any homeless person if you have the balls. if you have one bone of humanity up your ass, you will fucking do it. shove your credit cards up your vile plastic fucking twats, i hope you get sucked into the ocean real fuckin' soon, and tool? ten fucking years? yeah, obviously, with what's happened to tool, and after seeing the matrix too many times, i can clearly see what's happening there. they're stuck in a little time bubble of self loving, right before the credits roll. get some tearful smiles out, bruce willis stays behind to blow up the moon, you go out in a fictional halo of glory, it's basically just the little rush of 'life flashing before your eyes' before you die. but your fears built you a cocoon, like the herb in ayahuasca that slows down your metabolism, and the ending of your movie is lasting way too long, that's all it is. in the real world, tool released their fifth album about six years back, with the picture of a lawyer on a noose on the album cover, i remember, and that fucking album kicked ass, it was better than ænima, finally i got a followup to the most conscious album i had ever heard... back in nineteen ninety fuckin' six. yeah, see, i think that was it... ænima was released in ninety six, then matrix and fight club dominated ninety nine, i had a flashback to the sixties on new years evil ninety eight ninety nine, watching black sabbath reunited on stage, and i think through that little time jump, that somehow, los angeles got some little pulse of energy that's letting them hang on the cliff a little too long. like an acme cloud bridge before the coyote realizes he should have been falling about ten seconds earlier. weren't you only allowed fifteen minutes anyway, california? you think you're so fucking special, that you can even stretch out your own demise long enough to crank out 'the interview' along with its very own accompanying sony scandal, and now donald trump is running for president, and kanye after him, and hell, i thought it was bad enough when you were pitting the terminator against a black midget for governor, god, it's sickening how much you love yourself, do you realize how the rest of the world is seeing you? do you ever take one second to ponder that? hmm, what is the world going to really think of this movie? do we have to put more mind controlling subliminal messages in there to make them buy more coke? hmm, gee, i wonder. yeah, no, the earth is telling me that los angeles actually did go in the water back in twenty ten, and we're just seeing the deleted scenes rise up out of arizona bay, like gastronomical methane wiki leaks. seals are clapping their flappers, tourists covered in whale snot, and that eerie silence all around you, like no world exists beyond this beach. where's a teleporter when you need one? oh, what, did hollywood consume all of them? over paid, over porked, over spoiled, double parked, and smells like garlic... hmm... which joke is funnier? is it...

a: humans
b: california
or
c: republicans

pick the joke you think is funniest, piss your answer onto the presidential ballot, and you could win an appearance on jimmy kimmel's america's funniest self loving delusions! hahahahahahahahahaha! isn't that so funny! that's so funny, it could be yours now for just five ninety five, three producer blowjobs, and an eternal soul payment plan including bonus anal torture package.

put that in a fuckin' movie and smoke it.

hey, america, i just wasted the last year of my life in california...

we'll start the hug line here, the sympathy line here, and the 'i've got weed for your tears' line here.

but i went through hell to offer you all salvation from california! save yourselves from the lord!

and your god still hasn't returned my eight billion voicemails. by the way.

fuck you, california.

you're a mistake.
you're so delusional, you think you're still hovering above water.
i wish i had taken tool's advice.
i was just a fly buzzing around their turd.
you were the worst year of my life.

four blondes were headed to disneyland.
they passed the sign on the freeway that said 'disneyland left',
so they turned around and went home.

you probly even think this blog is about you.

i went to california, and all i got was this mental trauma.

fuck you, california.
your weed sucks.

...
here are a few tshirt ideas currently on sale in california's ass gift shop:

i went to california, and all i got was this black hole of evil in my head!

i'm offensively unique! i even made my own shirt! fuck you, clones!

and my favourite for the morning:

i hate my fucking life, but i love meshuggah!

oh, yeah, and can't forget...

women fear me like they fear intellect.

kiss my flabby black ass, ladies. toodles!