:: Electric Psychedelic Pussycat Swinger's Club ::

:: Friday, November 21, 2003 ::

psst... hey, you

Yeah, i'm talking to YOU.

Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.

Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back.

Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores and stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!

Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35.

Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English?

Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind.

Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Do-min-i-cans, because they make the Puerto Ricans look good ;)

Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, and their St. Anthony medallions. Swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos.

Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermés scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart!

Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take fives steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. MOVE THE FUCK ON!

Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust!

Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin Otisville, Jay!

Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Alqueda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal, Irish ass!

Fuck [Esther Kim]. I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back. Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch.

Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue. From the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it. Let the fires rage. Let it burn to fuckin' ash then let the waters rise and submerge this whole, rat-infested place.


selected quotes from "the mirror scene" in 25th Hour

Damn, does anybody else out there feel this way about living in nyc sometimes?


Okay, so this was a pretty lame ass entry. A cop-out, in fact. But fuck you for not understanding 'cause i'm stuck in a goddamn 20X20 study room reading up on the ethical standards that lawyers supposedly abide by. I just snuck some tex-mex (black beans and chicken) into the library, a shitty substitute for real mexican food found in so. cal and baja, only to open up the plastic bag and discover the black beans had oozed out everywhere. Now my fucking dinner looks like a shit rag... meanwhile, my friend just laughs like a 'tard.

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