Early Onset of Night

I recommend you fucking do it.

Write. Art. Sing. Dance. Pick up that guitar and never put it down.

Life is too short to worry about money or security. If you had it, what then? What to strive for? There’s a reason every band’s early albums are better than their later ones: HUNGER. How can you sing honestly, meaningfully about life when you’re a fucking millionaire? You can’t. You can’t write about it or paint it either.

People fantasize about being millionaires, but those poor fuckers are handicapped. All the heat and color has gone out of their lives. There ain’t nothing to do but go play golf or sit on the patio.

PS: If you have a patio, don’t EVEN fucking talk to me about “privilege”. I don’t give a shit if you have a white vagina or not.

Life is too goddamn short to worry about things like “credit”, which, by the way, is nothing more than the ability to go into debt. Good credit means you can go into debt really easily. Bad credit is actually a good thing: “Sorry. I can’t go into debt today. I have bad credit…”

The American Dream is actually slavery and nobody even notices.

Sleep on the floor.
Eat Ramen.
Drink what you can.

Do what you fucking dream, what lives in the very center of your heart. Who gives a shit if you have a toaster or not?

NEVER ARGUE WITH A NAKED WOMAN

Charlie Sheen should legally change his middle name to “Fuckin”

Charlie Fuckin’ Sheen.

Never show your hand. Well, show the ace, but nothing else.

The ancient Persians made every important decision drunk and if, for some reason, they had to make an important decision sober, they got drunk later and reconsidered it.

I will get drunk and provide important advice. Slide it slow and gentle into my Askhole.

Find joy in the looking. Make yourself.

Easier said than done, I know, but so what? There is no mythical finish line in life. There’s only death, a very decidedly non-mythical finish line. If is the most evil word in the English language. It should be deleted.

• If I was done with school.
• If I was in love.
• If I had a better job.

If what? Your life suddenly begins? Do not spend your time like pocket change waiting to arrive. You’re already there, living. Don’t miss it.

A quick note to any attention whores who might unfollow me:

liquidclocks:

I was you once. I hated life, I hated everyone, I hated my parents, I hated school, and teachers and everything inbetween. 

But looking back now, I wish I didn’t. I was very insecure, and it lead to an abusive relationship. A man that controlled everything I did, but I overlooked all the verbal and physical abuse because I thought he cared about me (LOL BELLA SWAN MUCH?).

During our 5 years together, I went to Europe alone and I saw how big the world really is, and how much my problems don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. There is so much beauty in the world, and a lot of that beauty derives from pain and suffering. All the pain I had felt was just a catalyst for something much larger that I didn’t understand, and to this day still don’t, but it’s starting to make more sense as each day goes on. 

Don’t take yourself for granted, You’re all you got. You shouldn’t need someone else’s opinion to make you feel better about yourself, plus in 5, 10, 15 years, you won’t even remember what those people said. Tell yourself what you wanna hear and believe it. Believe it for everything it is, cause no one else knows you as good as you.

Another drunken rant,

-Madison

“You’re all you got. You shouldn’t need someone else’s opinion to make you feel better about yourself, plus in 5, 10, 15 years, you won’t even remember what those people said.”

Fucking A. You won’t even remember those people AT ALL.

Ok. I have finished a 6-pack.

Remarkably, I am in a much better mood. It’s weird. I felt a little depressed and pensive, upset maybe, and I drink 6 beers and I am much happier. Alcoholics? I think not. Smartaholics more like it.

“If you’re sad, drink.” ~ Albert Einstein

Anonymous asked: I think you are not giving morals enough credit. Sure they exist as concepts or mental constructs but I don't think that makes them any less real than anything else, if human existence ended tomorrow nothing would exist, relative to humanity, at least. I think the strength or legitimacy of any concept is simply the strength put behind it, if you mean something mean it, that's as real as anything else. Wouldn't you say?

People think morality is something outside of themselves and it’s not. I’m not talking about strength of conviction here, I’m talking about origin and structure. Believe something like a motherfucker if you want. That still makes it only a belief inside your head that will die with you. I’m moral, too. I have a sense of right and wrong, my own. I know what it is and where it comes from, though. I also know that it applies ONLY TO ME.

georgefuckingpipe-deactivated20 asked: If we agree that right and wrong are two subjective concepts developed via our socioeconomic upbringing how can we rightfully criticize other people's morals?

I’m not sure how or from where they are developed. Right and wrong emanate from the human mind, though. If the human race became extinct tomorrow, “right” and “wrong” would become extinct with it. They are concepts, nothing more. Why allow ourselves to be ruled by our own thoughts and concepts? We are their source and creator and should rule them, not the other way around.

And you can criticize other people’s morals simply by criticizing other people’s morals.

Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, it flexes & stretches: this is the body’s movement. Joined together with tendons & bones, plastered over with muscle & skin, hidden by complexion, the body isn’t seen for what it is: filled with intestines, filled with stomach, with the lump of the liver, bladder, lungs, heart, kidneys, spleen, mucus, sweat, saliva, fat, blood, synovial fluid, bile, & oil. On top of that, in nine streams, filth is always flowing from it: from the eyes : eye secretions, from the ears : ear secretions, from the nose : mucus, from the mouth : now vomit, now phlegm, now bile. from the body : beads of sweat. And on top of that, its hollow head is filled with brains. The fool, beset by ignorance, thinks it beautiful. But when it lies dead, swollen, livid, cast away in a charnel ground, even relatives don’t care for it. Dogs feed on it, jackals, wolves, & worms. Crows & vultures feed on it, along with any other animals there. Having heard the Awakened One’s words, the discerning monk comprehends, for he sees it for what it is: “As this is, so is that. As that, so this.” Within & without, he should let desire for the body fade away. With desire & passion faded away, the discerning monk arrives here: at the deathless, the calm, the undying state of Unbinding. This two-footed, filthy, evil-smelling, filled-with-various-carcasses, oozing-out-here-&-there body: Whoever would think, on the basis of a body like this, to exalt himself or disparage another: What is that if not blindness?

—-The Vijaya Sutta (Victory), from the Buddhist Canon

People fighting about purple. Jesus.

Instead of making a statement about how making a statement isn’t really going to matter, how about you shut up and wear some fucking purple? Or not. Whatever you want.  But, really. Shut the fuck up unless you’re gonna say something.

Tumblr has a built in censor. It’s called the Unfollow Button.

I got a boner for pineapples.

I love them. Big, beautiful, brutal fruit. If you throw one hard enough at someone, you’re liable to kill them. Try that with one of your pussy bananas, you damn dirty apes. Pineapples got fucking spikes on them and a tough, woody exterior. They’re the Chuck Norris of fruit.

A good way to eat them is like this: First, slice off the spikes, then slice off the ass. It should be able to sit upright perfectly now and not be all wobbly and unstable like a little baby. Now, being careful not to cut in too deep, take your knife and slice off the skin in slabs, rotating as you go.

At this point, you’ll have a completely naked pineapple sitting on your cutting board in all its glory. There will be delectable pineapple blood (juice to the faint-at-heart) all over the place - on your hands, on your knife, all over the counter, everywhere. Your kitchen will smell like a mixture of Hawaii and Heaven, which is very likely a redundant analogy.

Tip your naked pineapple over so it is laying supine in its own blood. Depending on its size, you’ll cut it in half or in thirds. What you want after you dice it up is about two cups, so estimate. When you have the approximate chunk sliced off, wrap the remaining pineapple in plastic and stick it in the fridge. Uneaten pineapples will turn a ghastly brown-gray and get all mushy in retaliation for being ignored, so eat the rest tomorrow or at the very least, the day after that.

Now, dice up your chunk of pineapple except for the tough core. Cut around that and throw it in the trash or the compost heap. You’ll want your diced pineapple to be about the size of, well, dice. Little cubes.

You’re ready to get down to business. Take out a sauce pan or medium-size frying pan and throw in your pineapple dice. Next, pour white wine over them until they are just submerged. Put the heat on high and let them boil in the wine for, say, 5 minutes, stirring more or less constantly. Then pour in half a cup, maybe a little more, of heavy organic cream - enough so that the pineapple is submerged again, plus maybe a quarter of an inch more. Throw in a teaspoon of salt, a teaspoon of pepper, and a tablespoon of dried parsley. Allow to boil for another 5 minutes, stirring more or less constantly. What you want is for it to reduce and thicken. It may take a little longer than 5 minutes.

Now you’re ready for the finishing touch. Throw in about 3 or 4 tablespoons of blue cheese. Stir until it is melted and fully incorporated into the sauce. The sauce should be nice and thick and totally clinging to the pineapple.

Dump it on a plate and eat it with a spoon, collecting some of the sauce with each chunk of pineapple.

You can thank me later.

By the way, I call this Creamed Pineapple of Blue Cheese, and if you have the means, I recommend Maytag Blue Cheese from Iowa. It’s the best stuff in the Cosmos and makes Europe’s best offerings seem amateurish. Any blue cheese will do fine though.

And, yes, once upon a time, Maytag Farms used to make washing machines.

Links of note: One of the many pineapples that have died at my hands, Maytag Dairy Farms, Chuck Norris, the pineapple of action heroes, Charlton Heston, of the above subtle Planet of the Apes reference, another one of the many pineapples that have died at my hands.

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