Fuck You

Yep, that’s a big ole’ Fuck You. A big one. That finger means fuck you. The f-u-c-k variety. The kind that people type about on web boards, but never do. And that is directed to all of you. The y-o-u of the fuck you is the royal kind. Royal meaning plural and not royal meaning that I think you are aristocrats from some socialist monarchy with wizards and shit.

So, my apology is fuck you.

Oh wait, did Jordan have a bad day yesterday? Let’s gang up and anonymously call him a baby because he didn’t feel like accepting empty compliments. Yeah! Yeah, let’s pat each other on the back while we’re at it. We’re the funniest and he sucks even though he writes a free blog we all read and meet on to discuss nonsense everyday like our menstrual cycles. Boo Jordan.

Fuck you.

You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what is going on in my life. There could be some bad shit going on in my life. But does that matter to you – NOPE! Not one break for Jordan. “Just keep on typing you monkey” is what you are all saying. Can’t even allow a guy to have a bad day. If I was at a karaoke bar right now, I wouldn’t sing “LoveGame” or any Lady Gaga. I’d end up singing some song about betrayal like StainD’s “Mudshovel”. Just real depressing stuff because that is how you have made me feel right now. I would also sing “Mother” by Danzig and “Take Me Home Tonight” by Eddie Money because it is the LAW that you have to sing those songs if given the opportunity.

But I digress…

You don’t know me! You don’t know what shit is weighing on me. Do you know what day yesterday was? Nope you don’t! You didn’t even know of my existence at this point last year. You don’t know what anniversary it was yesterday, February 24th. You don’t know. Do you? DO YOU!?! That’s right. Some bad shit happened to me yesterday last year. MY PET ALLIGATOR DIED LAST YEAR! How do you feel now, you inconsiderate motherfuckers!?!

That’s right! There’s me and Ally the Alligator. February 24th of 2009 was his last day on this Earth. Sure, he is probably off in alligator heaven, but that doesn’t help any with me crying my eyes out here in New Jersey. And while I am remembering the heartache of losing my pet, no my friend, last year – I have these completely crazy women yelling at me via the internet. THANKS A LOT!

I remember when my Dad and I picked up Ally hitchhiking just outside of Asbury Park, New Jersey when I was four. My dad didn’t like hitchhikers, but there was something special about this hitchhiker: HE WAS A FUCKING ALLIGATOR! Ally somehow liberated himself from the swamps of Florida and headed North. Our only guess was he wanted to live in a more liberal forward thinking society, so he chose New Jersey.

We opened up the van doors and he climbed on in. Right from the start, Ally and I were friends. We weren’t sure how old he was, but from that moment on he was right by side… UNTIL LAST YEAR WHEN HE DIED AND YOU FUCKERS WOULDN’T ALLOW ME TIME TO GRIEVE YESTERDAY ABOUT IT! Ally was so smart and caring.

People told us that we couldn’t keep an alligator because it was illegal and because it was ridiculous and because they were backstabbing artists like you, the readers. But we kept him. My family fell in love with Ally and so did our pet dogs. Ally had a special place in all our hearts, but he really had a bond with me. It probably had to do with how I treated Ally. I treated him not as an alligator, but simply as another pet that I loved.

People told me that you couldn’t teach an alligator to do tricks like a dog, but I proved them wrong when I taught Ally to fetch my slippers. Now, I don’t wear slippers, but he seemed to have a natural fondness for footwear and I didn’t mind him alligator slobbering on some slippers that I don’t wear. Oh, but he loved to fetch those slippers. Brought him so much joy.

Do you know what the first step is in teaching an alligator to fetch slippers? Getting it to not DEATH ROLL you every chance it gets. Alligators like to death roll everything.

And as you can see in the picture, Ally did smoke. It was his burden. It was something he must’ve picked up before we got him, but he was addicted. I taught him how to fetch slippers, but I couldn’t teach him how to break that damn nicotine addiction.

Kristen Stewart loved him too.

I’m not even sure how the two of them met because he died before this site was even started. I’m not sure if she owns a time machine or she wants it so bad she can make herself into a time machine. But either way, they became fast friends. And Kristen loves slippers as far as I know.

So, next time you assume you know what is going on in my life – DON’T. My pet alligator’s death’s anniversary could be happening. You know? What is wrong with you people? Ally was honest and only would have treated you with love and respect when he wasn’t trying to death roll you. He tried to death roll almost all strangers. But you just shitted all over his memory.

I hope you are all proud of yourselves.

Now, I’m going to try and not die in the snowicane. That’s right the SNOWICANE!

Snow + Hurricane – Hurri x snow + Ally the Alligator’s death – your inconsiderateness =

SNOWICANE!

And my sternal head is dry, you empty teases! Dry as fuck!

Questions and comments for Friday. If I live or if I even feel like talking to any of you ever again.

Ally the Alligator

? – February 24, 2009

Rest in Peace, buddy.

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