From here on out I’ve decided to not present myself into situations that may result in a coming fucking catastrophe, especially one that smacks you in the face when you least expect it to. Like for example. A very nice looking girl on facebook recently sent me a message and complimented on my photography. Under normal circumstances I would have messaged the girl back and said a simple thank you, but due to recent misfortunes that have left me permanently stained when it comes to such situations, I deleted her instead. A sure feeling of awesome raw power that delete button can be. Let’s analyze this data or over-analyze in my case, such is that it seems I piss folks off when I analyze the details. But of course one thing to keep in mind, that this is my blog and not yours turtle tits. The great possible scenario that could have unfolded with this hot girl I deleted on facebook, would have been something of a repeat occurrence that always seems to happen to such fellas as myself. So, lets say I take pictures of this hot girl and it’s done and its over with. Then the girl comes back for more, but this time she wants some sexy pictures. So, I take some sexy pictures of her, all while my skull is being run through a blender…and oh the details…the wonderful fucking details? Then you start to take notice of those little things, the hints, certain looks and glances and its going so fast that the little rat sitting at the typewriter in your head can no longer keep up with it. Then she is messing with you and keeping you up at all hours of the night. Then you are at the point where you are about to burst if you don’t say something to this girl and its eating you alive right along with that little rat who has now ran out of paper. So you do. You unload all of your feelings. And when you do, hell fire rains from the sky and next thing you know this girl is sticking you with a fucking fork. You tell her how you feel and she condemns you for it and you ask why and she despises you and hates you for it. To me, that doesn’t make any bit of god damn fucking sense. I really don’t have much time to be riddling bodies with bullets right now, but I could go for a solid day of tossing dumb shit girls off of rooftops and such, but I am left with only a delete button. You either use it, or lose that as well.

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