EVERY POST THAT I WRITE ON THIS BLOG IS TOO LONG, BY BUTTERCUP McGILLICUDDY.

B. McGILLICUDDY

I think that no one reads my writing. I think that La Frere is the only 'respected' writer on this blog. I think this is untrue, because people tell me that they read this blog and can quote from it and send me emails asking if they can contribute. But I think that the reason that I think that no one reads this blog, is because people rarely comment on my or Floyd's posts unless they are me or Floyd or a La Frere worshiper with a guilty conscience. I think that the word 'worshiper' should be spelled 'worshipper', because phonetically and synesthetically it 'feels' better.

I am very depressed because I feel like there is a line in front of my eyes that is just always there and I can't do anything about it. And I close one eye to make it go away but then it doesn't and there's a line in clear sight in the open eye and one against the black of my eyelid in the other one. So there are two lines now.

If an Eagle and a Peregrine falcon became close friends and discussed philosophy together, would they have a more overarching, visually compelling metaphor for human existence than we do now? Because they can see from high up, like a mile high up. And they have both been around and are prevalent in every major society since the ancient Egyptians. So they might 'know us' better than we 'know ourselves'.

This whole blog post is being written because I am extremely sexually frustrated and it seems like sex is highly publicized in general today, the day after Mother's Day, and I would appreciate sex more if I didn't have to work so hard to get it. And porn isn't doing it for me today, but I can't figure out a better way to 'get' sex other than being a complete douchebag to an insecure girl, so I just don't try it.

The idea that I am just writing this blog post because I am sexually frustrated it false. I am a hypocrite sometimes, but I don't care, because everyone's a hypocrite. I once argued my mother into admitting that she was religious solely as a coping mechanism. I am atheist, I feel empowered, I feel sad, I feel obnoxious. I don't want anyone to read my blog posts. I don't want anyone to comment. I want everyone to. And I want one person, of all of everyone, to fall in love with my writing and tell me that I am a genius, and that I am a dumbass, and that they want to drive me crazy forever. But I am almost convinced that this will not happen.

MRY & JSUS CHRST GDMNT. I hate you all.

B. McGILLICUDDY