Signs You Are a Cunt: Female Version

Hello there, interworld....Long time, no type. Before I start another riveting tale on this here bloggery-doo, I would like to announce that I am starting another side blog. The blog you are on right now stems from my fucked up brain and focuses more on death, depression, mourning and all kinds of other topics that YOU the reader are obviously ballsy enough to tackle (good for you! That's why you're my hero!) My New blog will focus on mainly social issues, and my honest opinions and thoughts on things in the world that matter to me. I think it will be much more relatable (and much less morbid, teehee...) Once that blog is up and running, I will do the proper 'linkage' for anyone who wishes to read it! Now, back to the show!

This blog shall be straight-forward and simple to read for those degenerate "women-folk" who I am addressing. These are, The Signs That You Are A Cunt: Female Version, in simple list form. (And don't worry my feministas; to be fair and impartial, I will also have a male version because lord knows men can be cunty too). Let us begin!

1. If you have ever used a man for the sole purpose of monetary gain, you are a cunt. This includes marriage for the sole purpose of financial "stability" (aka being a gold-digging ho).

2. If you have negatively infiltrated the relationship that a man has with his children, you are a cunt. It's one thing to be supportive of a man's children, but to totally create a negative dynamic in their lives - cunty.
\
3. If you have EVER used a child as a tool to manipulate a man, a court, or just to get your way, you ma'am, are the biggest cunt in all of Cuntopia.

4. If you have ever used your religion as a means to belittle, degrade or ostracize someone, you are a cunt. (This obviously isn't exclusive to females, but it just popped into my head as a staple example of true cuntiness).

5. If you are a female who can only accept your own body image by bringing down the body images of other females, you ma'am, are a cunt. This includes the immature and pointless ads/memes stating things like "real women have meat on their bones, skinny women are twigs etc. etc. and vice versa".

6. If you are offended by the things I have written here, that means they probably apply to you and, you guessed it! You are, indeed, the cunt in question.

Now, don't be too discouraged, dear reader. I have successfully called you out on your cuntiness, but you don't have to STAY that way. Now I am going to give you a little pep talk on how to stop being a cunt, and   become a functioning member of the female gender who actually deserves a vagina.

-Be Independent. I cannot stress this enough. Why are so many women so reliant on men to pay their bills, take care of their kids from multiple baby-daddies and be their overall financial saviour? That shit ain't cute. You know what's cute? Nay, attractive and hot on a number of levels? A woman who has her shit together and can bring in a steady income. A woman with goals and ambitions, even if they are far-fetched or "dreamy."
-Put yourself in another person's shoes. Get this simple fact through your head: NOT EVERYONE BELIEVES IN THE SAME GOD YOU DO. Heck, not everyone believes in God at all, so please stop chastising every walking specimen that YOU deem unworthy of YOUR God's love and heavenly afterlife. Believe it or not, cunt, it IS possible to live a loving, empathetic and fulfilling life without subscribing to a specific faith.
-Do NOT allow jealousy and insecurity to control your life. Nope, stop. Before you start to argue that you are not a jealous person...you are. Your silly insecurities are what drive you to mock and belittle any woman you see doing better than you. Any woman prettier, smarter, more popular, more standardly appealing, you feel you must tear down then mask your jealousies under a false feminist pretext such as "only women my size are beautiful because we are so ostracized in society, so please ignore all other body types." (I will most likely make a longer, separate blog dedicated solely to this cunty phenomenon!)
-Confidence goes a long way. Just start giving zero fucks about trivial things like your social status, how you appear to others, stereotypes on how to get a man and just be a fucking decent human being. That's what attracts people to you, not manipulation tactics.
-Condoms, Condoms, Condoms! ;)

There you have it, folks. I hope this little blog helps you with the future dissipation of your cunty ways.

I Heart You

Yes, I get it. I am a very difficult person to understand. 


But for those who do understand me....

And to those who at least make the effort to...


I fucking Love you more than you know.

Dreams

Things below the surface. Unheard. Unseen.
Words left unspoken. Left alone with me.
Yet still able to find you in the midst of all this chaos.
Heads left empty and drained.
Implanted with visions of a near future or a tortured past.
Left feeling unwanted, unimportant, unpretty
When what really mattered always lay beneath, unseen, unscathed, untouched by human hands. As we are not worthy of these dreams.
We are left to wait in peril until our own mind's utopia becomes our imminent reality.
We wait, afraid and trembling with eyes closed and arms stretched out towards our intangible ghosts.
Insomnia eventually gives way to exhaustion and in a dizzying fray, I am gone.

Being a Pretender is really hard work

I guess now I see why people who live double lives tend to become addicted to coke and other vices. It is extremely hard to feel one way, then have to portray yourself as something else. I'm the kind of person who wants everyone around me to be happy, even if that means sacrificing my own feelings. But it's so painful to not be able to just tell everyone how utterly unhappy I am with life. I thought at least money would make things better, but at this point, not really. I try to distract myself, to find those little moments of happiness in artistic and creative things, but those moments, though wonderful, are so short-lived, and within the hour I am back to feeling immensely depressed.
The worst part is, it's starting to take a toll on my friends and family, which I hate. So if you are a friend or family member of mine, please realize, I am not trying to ignore you. In fact, I love you very much. My life is more complicated than anyone could possibly imagine right now. I've been super sick, both mentally and physically. My ulcers came back, due to my own fault, for drinking so god damn much, but it was the only thing at the time that made me feel relatively normal. Also, the doctors put me on Prozac (again), which so far isn't doing much but giving me these horrible headaches all the time.
School isn't going too well either. It is SO fucking hard for me to concentrate in class (just like last semester, but worse). I find myself staring into space contemplating life, or just holding back tears in Biology when we're studying cancer shit. I know my teacher is thinking what the fuck, and some of my classmates have asked me what's wrong, but contrary to popular belief, it's actually quite difficult for me to talk about personal issues, especially when they have become so complex.
My stomach is in constant pain and there are very few foods I can eat without getting incredibly sick every day. I keep barfing all the time and now my body mass index is probably that of a 12 year old girl. I know every woman in the world wants to be ridiculously skinny for some reason, but believe me, it's not fun. Not only do none of my clothes fit properly, but I just feel super embarrassed and body conscious now because of all my ailments and sicknesses :( 
In January, I stopped taking my ulcer medication because I told myself it would be okay if I got sick and died, in fact, I welcomed it. But once I started feeling the intense pain again, I gave in and I'm actually attempting to get medical help. I'm not afraid of death, but I am afraid of pain. It's just a very uncomfortable thing.

Also, I don't know if I should address the "Stacey" situation here or not. Maybe I will in the next blog, if anyone remembers that whole incident that happened a few weeks ago. Bullshit.




~Webpups

Things Could Be Worse...

Ok, I need to get on here and rant about one of the single most ANNOYING pet peeves of mine, and that is when people say, "Well, thing could be worse..."

As in,
"Things could be worse, you could be a starving Ethiopian child."
"Things could be worse, you could have no arms and legs."
"Things could be worse, you could be killed."

THE FUCK?

First of all, the term "worse" is relative.
For example, I personally, would rather be dead than have to deal with my mom being dead. Some people wouldn't. That is relative.
I would rather be a starving person in Africa than have to see my mom suffer. Some people wouldn't. Relative.

Furthermore, that is possibly the WORST way to try to "comfort" someone. Ever.
I don't know what happened to empathy in our country, but it definitely flew out the window if people think that "Things could be worse" is a good comfort food.

So please, just keep that in mind. It's not helpful. In fact, it's very counter-productive.

Kthanks,

-Webpups

Devil Woman

Here's another rant, I guess. I've been wanting to post this for a while, but sometimes things get so hard that I can't even come up with a coherent sentence I want to say. Anyway, let's cut into the milk and cheese of this particular post. -Nonsensical analogy-

Of course, as I trek through my endless cycle of emotions and stages of grief, I seem to be particularly focused on anger. Anger at a number of people and things, but I'm going to focus on one particular, BIG problem that's been royally pissing me off.
There exists a stupid bitch on this planet by the name of Cynthia Banks. Why she exists is anyone's guess. She is the most horrid, vile excuse for a "human being" I have ever encountered. I am 100% sure that she is at least one of the many personified forms of Satan himself. This particular stupid bitch is also the reason for most, if not all, of my psychological problems and overall mental instability. I am writing this blog to point out how utterly unfair life is. The fact that this woman is still alive, and not 6 feet under, while my mom, one of the many people tormented by this she-devil, died a stupid, painful death.
I am not the type of person to wish death on anyone, even my worst enemy, but the fact that "karma" has not caught up with this ciniving whore is beyond me, and really makes me wish that she would get her come-uppance. Allow me to elaborate:

This is the home-wrecking bitch that thought it was okay to infiltrate my parent's marriage when I was 11, and ultimately cause the end of it.
The bitch that made my dad leave and move with her to Texas.
The bitch that came to my 8th grade graduation like she belonged, and told me I couldn't wear the dress that I wanted because it was "too revealing" (OMG, my shoulders were showing, alert the fucking press!)
The bitch who lied to my dad saying that her daughter was his, just so that he would move to Texas and away from us. (Note: the girl looks NOTHING like him, or anyone in our family).
The bitch who eventually became my (I use this word VERY loosely) "step-mother" whom I ended up having to coexist with in Texas for almost a year.
The bitch who pushed her pseuo-Christianity onto EVERYONE around her, while not looking in the mirror to see what a sad excuse for a Sinner she really was.
The bitch who endlessly tormented me, just because she was jealous of me and my dad's relationship.
The bitch who called me a slut and a dyke when I was only 13 and had only kissed one boy in my whole life.
The bitch who THREW AWAY my clothes and music from my 'pop punk' days because she said they were "of the Devil" (at least give the clothes away to charity you dumb bitch).
The bitch who choked me in a CD store because I wanted to get a Blink-182 and Sum 41 CD, but she  said I couldn't because they "look weird".
The bitch who literally called my high school (in Texas) to get certain books and jewelry banned because they were again, "of the Devil".
The bitch who told my coach to take me off the volleyball team (one of the few things that brought my life joy there) because she thought I was skipping practice, when I explained to her that I had cramps and missed maybe 2 practices that whole year.
The jealous and vindictive bitch that did a slew of many other things, that even I feel like I can't post here...

There are so many situations in my life that I feel like I have not gotten the proper closure, and this is one of them. She never apologized for her evil ways, she never felt remorse for being a home wrecker. She ruined the relationship with me and my dad, which to this day is not rekindled and I don't know if it ever will be. I just don't understand how people can be so cold and heartless and just oblivious to the suffering of others...
Anyway, it feels good to finally get this off my chest and put it out there. I've been holding back for over 8 years and now that I don't give a fuck, it's time to start exposing the world for what it is. Sick.

-Webpups

Rant

The Saddest Part Is That No One Knows How Unhappy I Really Am...

I hate feeling so ungrateful and so negative all of the time.  I hate that I'm even writing in here right now because I usually like to have a clear and precise concept to talk about, but I really feel the need to vent. WHY was this week so hard for me? I had so many exciting opportunities come up, but I can't be happy about any of them. I know I should give myself a break; I have a pretty damn good reason to be upset, but to have such a low feeling inside of me all the time is not only irritating, but downright debilitating. I spent the greater part of today crying in the bathroom of my college. The second I'm alone, all the emotions and feelings start flooding back to me and I just get overwhelmed. Which is really unfortunate because I can't be around people ALL the time, nor would I want to, but that's just my reality. My dreams are still vivid, intense and creepy. I wish they were more like how they were earlier in January. At least in those dreams, my mom was more of an ethereal, yet realistic person and it was actually like I was with her in real time. Now, in my dreams I am confused when I see my mom, because I can't decide if she's really alive or not, then I wake up and of course, realize she's still dead... No one should have to go through something like that; I'm already suffering enough, then I have a whole neurological experience to deal with, which is really too complex to even put into words or writing (no one would understand anyway, except maybe crazy people). I would like to think that most of the random intense emotions were just due to the fact that I was on the rag this week, but I don't know. I try to be one of those people who makes the most of a situation and is able to laugh and joke about life's unfairness, but again, this feels to me like such an unrecoverable thing. And I hate the fact that everyone seems to think that I will get over it, because I won't. Ever. I just wish there was a way to let people know how I feel without sounding needy...it's just hard to put into words how I'm feeling at any given time so I just stutter and stammer and eventually the subject gets changed. I wish the person that I trusted to be there for me would actually be there for me and stop being so distant. I wish a lot of things, but I've learned recently that wishing, hoping, praying and all that jazz is worth SQUAT. If something is going to happen, it's just going to happen and that's the end of it. It would just be nice if my happiness didn't have to be constantly on the line....


Fuck. Shit. Piss.


-Webpups