Statement of Intent and Rejection of Fuckabilly Principles, O. Bunghole Deux

I, Stoney, decree that the sole purpose of this fuckhole of a blog will be to unite any and all people, whose sole purpose is complete uselessness and depravity.

Uselessness and depravity are big words with lots of different shades of meanings, so we’ll stick with the obvious. You could be:

1. USELESS– worthless, retarded, stupid, a waster, procrastinator, slacker, you-tube watcher, myspacer, facebooker, blogger, non-book-reader, news-avoiding, in denial, a baby momma, a baby daddy, middle-aged, gay, big fat fucking loser…anything goes.

2. DEPRAVED– drunk, stoned, out of your mind, against the grain, hating your job, fucking off at work, doing something that someone else doesn’t want to do, talking shit, being mean to your friends, searching for dog sex tips, basically anything that society deems disrespectful, irrelevant, or otherwise unwanted.

What do you get when you fuse our core values? You get a useless fuck that nobody wants, a vagrant with no responsibilities, and with no desire or need to get some. Want some responsibility? Sign up for 18 years of it and pop out a kid.

A complete Rejection of all Fuckabilly Principles also goes hand in hand with the key values of membership here at Stoneyville. Fuckabilly Shitheadedness oozes out of every greasy pore of this fine nation, from the bullshit fuck fakery that’s on TV right now, to the bullshit fuckheaded cock sucking that goes on at night (in the form of Presidential debates), to a goddamn moron working in a Kansas City supermarket who thinks all people from India are ragheads on a jihad against the U.S. because we are “free.”

There was a time when I was not so jaded, when I wasn’t so withered by the salt stings in my eye, when there wasn’t anything for me to bitch about except that my tennis match didn’t go as planned, or when my eraser broke off during my SAT exam. Oh, those were the days. Now, I have to sit here in my office in Los Angeles, and plan my domination by banding together with the outsiders. I sit here in my office and watch the sun rise each morning, over the Pasadena valley or whatever, and look out over the 405 at all the fuckheads in their cars, stopped, and I just think, “What the fuck is going on here?”

And then I’m overwhelmed by the site of it, and I just lump anything I don’t understand, know about, care about or have heard of, into one big pot of ideas, and say,

“Fuck this, I don’t care about this, I don’t want to hear about this, I don’t want to think about this, and I wish it would all go jump off the goddamn bridge and get it over with.”

And as for closure, or a summation of the principles, or anything else, I say, “Fuck off.”

Call my secretary, Roughty, and I’ll get back to you later.

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1 Response to “Statement of Intent and Rejection of Fuckabilly Principles, O. Bunghole Deux”


  1. 1 dankknuggets August 21, 2007 at 11:40 am

    nice sword, babel


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