Another One Bites the Dust & Odds with Pathetic Ends

Well, Insurgency, Inc. has bitten the dust.
It/They/Whatever will be missed.

On another note, go look at this post by the Social Pathologist



The countdown has begun.
In 9 months, I'm going to reveal everything. Everything there is to know about me.
Seriously. My work ends and then....the real fun will begin as the last thing hanging over my head to maintain anonymity will have dispersed in the win.

Back to Insurgency Inc.'s demise:
There's only a handful of blogs keeping it up since when I started and even those, I can tell by recent posts are considering calling it quits or finding themselves in need of a change.
Been there, done that. I'm not redoing this fucking blog again. Consequences be damned. I let go of my fear long ago. I'm no longer worried about losing anything. Her, the job, the whatever. It will just force me to leave this fucking state and that would be a blessing in a not-so-subtle disguise.
I look over at the cafe I'm at as a daughter and father don't talk b/c they are each glued to their electronics. Huxley was right. Brave New World in-fucking-deed. Yay for progress and all that cal.
Btw, put up some youtube videos. The reasons you've seen everyone doing it is that you can easily monetize that shit. Pay attention kids, some people are in a fucking gold rush grab for click-through money.
Tell 'em I told you so.

At any rate, it happens after a time. The weariness of blogging, that is.
The notoriety, the inability to stay anonymous, that will scare off some.
Then there's the fade after you realize doing shit just to blog about it grows blase with time.
The fix isn't quite as high after you wake up and realize, I shouldn't have fucked that tranny girl just to have a great story.

Then the passage of time, the passage of other blogs into the void, and simply what passes for maturity steals the luster and the thrill from blogging the way marriage steals the fire and luster from relationships.

The same way the fucking vag loses its luster over time.
The one cure for getting tired of the same old vag?
New vag.
Shocker, right?

I never got comepletely tired of fucking my girlfriend when I occasionally banged a girl on the side.

Say what you will.
Truth is uncomfortable.
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I'm hipster-watching at a cafe where I do some of my internetz work when I'm not at my other job(s). Switching paths was the smartest thing I ever did. I've always been more productive when surrounded by strangers in a public place.
Besides, making money for things I already do and fucking do well and can do from anywhere with wi-fi feels extremely grati-fucking-fying.
It's how I virtually wrote my entire first novella and the add-on half that I birthed later.
I look outside as a balding guy comes walking up with the look of the dead in his eyes. His wife is fat. They're not old. So this bitch has piled on the pounds since they got married. I bet that sex is not great if and or when they even have it.

Welcome to hell.
This is not an exit.
This is your life.
And you don't care if its ending one minute at a time.
Because your girlfriend or wife is fat.
Which sucks.
Like your life.
Leave her fucking ass.
Man up and leave her fucking ass.
This shit isn't a free ride. Just like women will virtually always leave a man who loses his job and doesn't fix that solution.
Somehow, clever women figured out how to shame men into staying with them even when they get fat as fuck (I know it's hard when you don't work full-time).
Oh yeah, it's called divorce/family court laws.

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In other news, I think I'll post the novel(la) at some point and accept donations(let you click on some adspace) for bettering your life/perspective/breath/thoughts/dreams/nightmares with a beauteous excursion into the savage nature of the human spirit penned by your humble narrator.