About the Faggot Who Wrote This

I write stupid things that nobody gives a stupid fuck about. There. I measure that's just about the size of it.

The reason why I engineered my blog to be as tacky and gross and positively tasteless by default is because I wanted it to become it's own defense mechanism. Against anonymous hecklers and bashers who have reserved a special place in their cowardice for hurling cheap insults towards tacky gay bloggers like my person. I've heard it before and then some -- "Really dude, this blog you have here is just so full of crap." Oh, how did you know? Was it because of that lovely picture so strategically placed on my banner? Or was it because there's "shit" in the blog title? "Well, it's just so gay. Like cocksucking gay!" Why slap me silly and paint me red! Are you, perhaps, a psychic? Tell me, you smart little thing, was it because my blog's pink? Or maybe, just maybe, and I'm seriously hazarding a guess here, maybe because I said so in my profile?

Hello, my name's Momel, and I'm a screaming faggot."

I sure hope you didn't miss that part. That would have been the fucking death of me. This precaution also goes out towards you filthy pig dog Grammar Nazis who advocate the deconstruction of how a person uses his nouns and verbs and prepositions and clauses and shit. Well just so you fuckers know, I employ what is called "Dumpster English" in my writing, and I'm also disposed to making up words like "Dumpster English" in my writing. You turds are missing the point. So screw you.

There is one simple reason why this is not your ordinary gay blog. And that is because I don't specialize in sequins and semen, although those are easily, next to raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, some of my most favorite things. I will not talk about cocksucking tips, or heels, or bulimia, or what bags go with that tattered shit you're wearing. I have elected not to adorn this blog with pictures of throbbing erections, or double penetrations, or a shirtless Zach Efrons, or a shirtless Dingdong Dantes, or a shirtless Jerry Yan. Those things stop me in mid sentence, give me ideas, and then keep me distracted for the next five to ten minutes, depending on the time of day. One thing leads to another, I lose my train of thought in consequence, and I'll be like "Where the fuck was I again?"

And besides, writing with sticky fingers is just a thoroughly difficult thing to do.

My advocacies include relevance, the love of your life, scheduling your posts, and finding time to masturbate. These things are easily, next to sequins and semen, some of my most favorite things.

And I LOVE to bash. 
 Seriously. I can only imagine the things I can do with Bashing were it male, gorgeous, and anatomically correct.


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