Broke, Penniless, and Confused on the Merits of Anime Porn
[Editors Note: I’m gonna do things backwards this week. First the Supplemental to the essay and then, later this week, the essay itself. Does that make any sense? Nope! BTW I give this weeks update a 6/10]
I never imagined that I would be completely and utterly broke. I mean sure, the hypothetical situation always existed in the furthest depths of my mind, but I never contemplated it as a reality. I can’t even afford a rimjob from a Taiwanese prostitute.
I don’t want to sound like Jeff Foxworthy but, you know you’re broke when you feel agonizing guilt for splurging a dollar on Big Buck Hunter 2006: CALL OF THE WILD (A game where you hold a plastic orange shot gun and shoot deer IN THE FACE) at your local pub. I felt that today. Seriously, why does my bank account read -$13.00? Is that a good thing? I like to pretend it is.
I’m starting to enjoy the free things in life though. For instance, back at college my friend Scott Steinhilber once told me, “Bitches love getting honked at.” So now I sit in parking lots in black aviator glasses and brown trench coats as I frantically beep my car horn at anything that remotely resembles that of the female race. Albeit most of them are tiny, delicate three year olds in sundresses. Whatever, they totally want it.
I blame my extravagant lifestyle really. I mean, I guess all of the awesome rock and roll drugs and supermodel girlfriends have finally caught up with me. I probably shouldn’t have splurged on that $2,000 luxury plane ride for Lily Allen and myself, but alas I cannot dwell in the past.
Being broke means being home however, it is one of the few perks until I get my new job. And honestly, switching from the role of ‘broke party-hopping college student’ to ‘homebody child bitch’ is kind of nice. Being home kind of feels like being on a luxury cruise. Suddenly the food is good, the beds are big, and I can settle down and do the things I like with all of my lax time. Which means that proper hygiene is a thing of the past and most of my time amounts to a lot of cigarette smoking. My bad God, I’ll make it up to you someday.
Fuck, this is a terrible essay. In fact, I don’t even think this qualifies as an essay, it might just be some kind of huge E-RANT. This is probably going to cause me to lose even more readers. Fuck, I really suck sometimes. You people should read all of this, constantly. In fact, there should be some kind of religious doctrine based on this blog. What was I talking about again?
Right. Anime porn. That stuff is messed up. I mean, I certainly understand its merits, but as a form of art? Come on. I’ll admit that I’ve been attracted to cartoon characters before: The maid from Duck Tales or perhaps Helga from Hey Arnold. Hell, I’ve even felt a twinge in my loins for the explorer known as Zora or the builder known as Bob. But this stuff takes that to an entire new level. I can’t help but watch and say: “Surely, Sailor Moon was not meant to do that.”
But I digress.
Who wants to send me money for nude pixxx?
Filed under: Personal Entry, Season 1, Supplemental