Thursday, July 10, 2008

Helping to Help


OK, I believe in helping people when they need it, period. If you look at a situation that needs doing, you do it. Not for thanks, not for feeling better, not for a place in heaven or for reincarnation. FUCK ALL THAT SHIT. I believe you help cause the situation before you needs attention, period. You mother fucking do it!

Fuck Saint Peter, fuck Nirvana and the spinning wheel of re-incarnation. I want to be judged not on what I did for others, but weather or not God thinks I would be a cool enough guy to sit around and have a few beers or ambrosia with, and talk about sports, pussy, war, mankind aliens or the middle east.

But if it's heaven where I go, I hope to God they are pouring decent, well made beer. Cause if Anheuser-Busch got the contract for heaven, I will be checking out the micro-brews served in the south, if you know what I mean, cause eternity of fuck ass beer is more then I can handle.


Really though, I believe you help people out, for the sake of helping them out, not because it makes you feel better, or helps get you for reincarnation point or for getting on the good side of God. I feel so giulty when I help people out, and get rewarded, or thanked to the extreme. I did not do it for the thanks, or appreciation. I hate that shit. I am not humble either, I am the cockiest most arrogant piece o work I know.

I don't want to be in front of St. Peter and have him list out all the sleazy women I fucked, all the times I masturbated in one day (20, I swear by that number), all the times I blew my nose into the bed sheet, or wiped my ass with bathroom towels. With my only come back, as:
I opened the door for people, I helped a few hot girls change their tires, I didn't fuck the 18 year old girl in Create on vacation from Texas who thought I was cute, simply to have deflowered another virgin. (yes I did not, but really because I was too tired to fuck, not because I was bastion of nobility. Really I was too tired to deal with the lies that would have ensued the next day.) Or my defense of I never stopped loving my first love. Or to state all the other good crap I did. I did not do it to go to heaven. Rather I did it because my daddy said, put your self in the shoe of the man you help in a tough situation.

Man I have been in tough situations. I guess that empathy is what makes me do shit. Or, I just like to be doing something. This of course is provided no less then virginal sluts need their vagina's plowed.

Regarding St. Peter...
I want him to either let me in, like Hugh Hefner would let me into the playboy mansion, because he knows the playmates need a good old rogering, that his limp dicked 70s something pecker can't accomplish the rogering at hand and I have a high tolerance for Cialis and have an eternity supply with me.

So now you know why I help out. It like the entire reason the world revolves is all about the penis and the vagina.

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