|I like to bring Junky Elmo out to play every few years.|
First off, what kind of moron are you...really? Were you born retarded or are you just stupid? I'm curious to know. That post wasn't even 24 hours old but as usual you were on it like stink on shit, that speaks to your character, what there is of it anyway.
The same old story, some obnoxious ignoramus has nothing better to do than see what I've got going on and then point out that I’m a fucked up drug addict. Bravo jackass, you've come to a JUNKY blog to pontificate on the obvious, good job. Dullard!
Second of all, me miserable? Don't get it wrong, I've been called a miserable bitch on many occasions but I think they were indicating my general demeanor at the time, not my overall attitude or circumstances. I know that narcissistic delusions and rapier sharp wit (heheh) won't buy happiness but they'll keep me hella entertained until I trip over it. I have plenty to keep misery at bay, including drugs, should I choose to use them. You have, it would seem, entirely too much time on your hands. As an illustrator of the self evident perhaps you can find gainful employment standing on street corners shouting, "Fire is hot. Water is wet." Clueless fuckwit!
Let me make this perfectly clear, it's not your sad attempts to rile me that prompted this reply, it's my true and abiding love of my own voice. How could I pass up such an opportunity? I thought I was too tired to bother but the part of me that thrives on conflict just couldn't resist. Another chance to show off my linguistic prowess and near perfect execution of almost indecipherable insults? Sign me up.
See, I know what you're trying to do with the Ashley thing, it was pathetic years ago and it's even more so now. I'm not one to imbue the deceased with traits they never possessed in life. You, for instance, are a piece of shit now and will continue to be one long after you've drawn your last, poisonous breath. Facts is facts, I'm not canonizing anyone.
I know that Ashley was a mess...EVERYONE KNOWS that Ashley was a mess. She was neurotic, sometimes pathological, needy and demanding. She was adept at being helpless and using it to her advantage. She fashioned herself a victim long after she ceased to be one. The girl had issues psychiatrists don't even have names for yet.
She was also beautiful, could be unbelievably kind and tried hard to let the goodness in her shine through, even when she was so broken she was dying inside. She didn’t always succeed but she tried. You have to be some specialized breed of crap for brains if you couldn't see all that.
So in summation, you are the kind of wad o’ fuck that gives cum stains a bad name and though I may be alot of things, miserable is not one of them.
PS. I'll be back soon to finish what needs finishing and all that shit though I probly won't resort to Adderall unless you want me to spend 2 days writing and re-writing the same 3 sentences. 'Round here they got buckets of this stuff called Crystal Methamphetamine, if I need chemical inspiration that'll do nicely.