Hypocrisy, I tell you! Hypocrisy!

So maybe I'm a hypocrite. I just got out of the shower and turned my iTunes on because I like to listen to music while lotioning myself up and all that good stuff. I started in the "p" region, and then Queen's "Somebody to Love" came on. I haven't heard that song in quite awhile, so it made me pause when it came on. At first I was just listening and rocking out, but then I began thinking about my life. I guess Queen will do that for you. A majority of my friends are in relatively serious relationships and I am single. Usually I don't really think about things like this, but maybe the song just got to me for some reason. My best friend is single, but she lives a life that comes quite close to a real life "Sex & the City." At least as close as a twenty year old Chicago girl can get to living a SATC life. She has a good job in downtown Chicago, she's absolutely gorgeous, not even the everyday normal type gorgeous, she's exotic gorgeous-the kind that makes a person wonder what nationality she is. She commutes daily on the train, talks to important Chicagoans daily, and frequently gets asked out by quasi-celebrities and sometimes even real celebrities (I won't name names, but think everyone from rappers to football players). She gets taken out to dinners where the tab is upwards of $600. If she wasn't my best friend, I might be tempted to hate her. However, I know her so well that I know she deserves the best and deserves to have fun.

On the other hand, I am a bit jealous. Do I want to find somebody to love, like the Queen song? I don't really know. Basically, I just want to have insane amounts of sex. That's the thought that always crosses my mind when I talk to guys. Hmm...I wonder how he tastes. I bet he's great in the sack. He looks like he'd be a good fuck. This isn't love talk. This is fuck talk. Have I become deluded into thinking that fucking leads to love? I'm not really sure. I'd like to be in love again (yes, I have been in love before) but I don't know if I want to give someone a big piece of me at this point in my life. I'm not a cheater, I wouldn't get drunk and hookup with someone while in a relationship or anything like that...it's just that, well, I want to have all the perks of being in a relationship and none of the hassles. I want someone to hang out with and enjoy common interests with, and of course have sex with, but I don't want someone who would get upset with me for choosing to hang out with my friends over them, or someone who would get pissed if I forgot to call them back in the same day. I want my cake and I want to eat it, too, damnit. I want to have fun and I want to be able to do what I want to do. I don't want to have to think about another person's reactions to my actions right now. But then, even as I type this, I question myself. Maybe I do want someone to care about my ingrown toenail, or that my parents are having a fight...but on the other hand....See, there's always an other hand. Fuckers. There shouldn't be two of you!

Maybe what I really want is for someone to love me unconditionally without having to love them back. Is that horrible? See, I told you I was a cunt. Am I jaded at the age of twenty? That would suck. Most of the time I just think it's the constant lovey-dovey relationships that are getting thrown in my face. Ahh, stoppppppit. Good, I'm glad you're happy together, keep it to yourself for fucksake! Sonsofbitches. See, this is what makes me mean...kinda.

After the Queen song, "Somebody to Love," another "Q" band came on. Queensryche's "I Don't Believe in Love," Ironic?

Damnit, George Carlin!

I'm upset that George Carlin passed away. I'm not upset like I'm crying, but I'm upset because I didn't get to see him live before he passed. He was a hilarious comedian, if you are unaware of him, and I loved the brutality of his act. If you haven't seen his older stuff, you should check it out on glorious Youtube. Whenever I would watch Carlin, I'd feel a bond of meanness. I don't want to put words in a dead man's mouth or anything, but I feel like George would understand my tirades about soccer moms who get bitchy at the Starbucks barista because she forgot to put in an extra shot of espresso. George would have totally understood that and would have called the lady a cunt. I've heard that the best comedians are the comedians who have had a lot of depression and perhaps tragedy in their life. As an E! documentary informed me once upon a time ago, I learned that George Carlin had his fair share of depressing moments. It's one thing for a person to experience loss and tragedy, but it's another for a person to experience them, give it a big fuck you, and turn it into a comedic performance that acts not only as entertainment to others, but also a type of therapy for the comedian. From my limited knowledge of comedians and their lives, I humbly state that George Carlin probably did one of the best jobs of turning his angst into comedy and for that, I salute him. I think every George Carlin fan should tell the dirtiest sex joke to their buddies and have a beer for George in honor of his life.

Too similiar?

Is there such a thing as being too alike? I'm getting the feeling that the more two people have in common, the more obvious it becomes that there is no hope for them. I've been talking to this guy for a long time now, like four months. I've known him for years, but we were never really close. We flirt a lot, we talk about music, we talk about sports, we talk about how amazing sex would be with each other. Recently, it seems like he's lost interest. Actually, that's being a bit too nice, he's definitely lost interest, or as I like to refer to it- he pussied-out. Yeah, I made that up, deal with it. We were supposed to go to a concert together, but he never called me or anything when the date came close and he went without me. This is huge clue numero uno. Second clue is that I told him I got a vibrator and he didn't respond like a normal guy would...he just kind of accepted it. Ummm, listen buddy, I told you for a reason...like maybe if we were fucking I wouldn't use it as often? This is why 20 year old boys lament about not getting laid.

There's two conclusions that I could draw from this confusing behavior of his.

Conclusion one is that he's a pussy and thinks that we could have something good and he doesn't want to go there, with me, or at all, I'm not sure which. This could have something to do with his last girlfriend cheating on him after they were unofficially engaged and his insecurity about that. Maybe it's not insecurity, maybe it's just that he doesn't want to deal with the obligations of a relationship, which I can understand. The complication to this conclusion however, is that he's told me he can't provide a relationship and I told him that I understood and it was okay, we could still mess around if he wanted to. So he can have his cake and eat my pussy, too. Isn't that music to a man's ears? Good Lord, I just want some action, man! Not a wedding ring.

Conclusion two is that he just flat out lost interest in me. I hate to write this out because it's admitting that I didn't get what I wanted for some reason. For all my self-confidence and fuck you attitude, it does kind of hurt to admit that there's parts of me that people don't want and perhaps these qualities cost me something that could have been good, like a relationship with a guy who enjoys the same things I do and promised to "fuck me so good that I won't be able to see straight." Perhaps I was a bit too aggressive. I did tell him that I want to feel his dick shoved down my throat...which could be scary for some. Or, even worse, maybe he became interested in someone else. That pisses me off. Here I am, willing to open up my legs and just have a good time and you don't even call or at least send me dirty text messages anymore? Come onnnnnn.

Would it be completely outrageous to just call him and tell him to come pound me and then I can get him out of my system?

I'm a cunt and I love it.

Please don't run away scared because you saw the worst of the famous four lettered words. Being a cunt is an amazing thing. I love being a cunt. Being a cunt is fun. Being a cunt is better than being a bitch, a whore, a skank, etc etc. Being a cunt is powerful, sexy, fun, and amusing. Call me a cunt and I'll give you a high five and a "fuck yes!" Why? Because I know I'm a cunt and I'm fucking proud of it, bitches. Being a cunt doesn't necessarily mean that one is a foul-mouthed, incoherent, muffin-topped, junior high drop out. No, no, no, darling. Being a cunt is about embracing yourself and not apologizing for it. It's about having quadruple the amount of sexuality of a normal woman and an equal amount of humor, and a certain hmmm in your recipe that makes people notice you, and more importantly, remember you.
In fact, the use of the word cunt does not have to be used in a derogatory way at all. Cunt is a beautiful thing. People come from cunts (well, it's true) and birth is always an amazing thing, isn't it? And please tell me what man does not get instantly hard when he hears a woman let out a throaty moan of, "pound my cunt!"? It's a very powerful word. It invokes power in itself, as well as raw sexual aggression, passion, (even if used negatively) and emotion. Being a cunt is like being the best hard liquor on the market; smooth, classic, enjoyable, and capable of making a person have the greatest time of their life. So please, embrace the inner cunt in yourself and try it on and sashay around in your house wearing only your most cunt appropriate outfit and feel the power of being unapologetically a cunt.

I manifested my...manifesto.

I'm not going to go into a spiel about this being my first entry on my first blog, because it'll become very apparent in the near future that I have no experience with blogging. As you can tell from the name of my blog, I'm not a nice girl. I'm not particularly mean (intentionally-be forewarned) but I am just not nice. I've tried to be nice, and sometimes it has worked, but it has also left a little hole inside my mean old soul that just kept nagging at me. So, I've embraced my inner meanness to show the world that it's okay to be mean if it's what you feel. Now, let's not get into a war of definitions via blogging/bloggers/blogs/bloglgobglogble. I'm not outwardly mean in the sense that I kick 10 year old boys in the nuts just for shits and giggles, I'm about two pennies short of being that perverse.

I am the type of person who says what everyone else is thinking but doesn't want to say for fear of getting their ass kicked or being looked down upon. So far, I have yet to get my ass kicked. As for being looked down upon, well that's another story. A lot of times my meanness is interpreted as humor, which I appreciate because in all honesty, that is the purpose of my shouting out random things when I have the urge to. No, I don't have Tourettes Syndrome, I've checked, but thank you for your concern. This blog will hopefully amuse others as well as keep me sane so that I don't become a 34 year old coke head who pushes a cart of cans around a Jewel-Osco parking lot yelling about the inevitable apocalypse.