Ramblings Of A Jerk - 1. Chapter 1

If you shrink away from foul language, then I suggest you stop reading right at this very moment. Go on, use the fucking mouse and close this window. You’re a sissy anyway, so better do the cowardly thing and get the hell away from here!

After that warning and you’re still reading on, either you’re extremely brave or absolutely stupid. I think it’s the latter and there’s nothing you can do regarding what I think. Perhaps you’re just bored and don’t have anything to do. My advice: get a life dude!

Before you jump to any conclusions, if your brain is even capable of doing that, this is not my story. This is the story of my friend, my fucking gay friend who sucks cock and probably takes it in the ass too. He’s queer, I tell yah. Why do I feel the need to share his story? Because deep down, I have a heart.

You actually fell for that? Yes? No? Maybe? Well I don’t have a heart. I’m telling his story just because it will piss him off and I enjoy pissing him off. If I didn’t think that putting ‘lol’, ‘haha’ or ‘mwahaha’ in here is lame, I will do it. But it’s L-A-M-E, lame so just picture me laughing maniacally. It’s not too hard imagining that anyway. Unless you’re one of those people who don’t have a fucking imagination, which is probably true in your case. I can’t do anything if you don’t have an imagination except to say that ‘you’re hopeless’.

About my friend, he’s butt-ugly. Ok maybe not that ugly, but he’s ordinary and simple looking. Very simple looking. The simplest looking guy—gay—you would ever meet. That’s probably the reason he’s single, because no one’s interested. If you ask him why he’s single, he’ll tell you it’s by choice. Yeah right. We all believe him, right? I think, and I’m almost always right, no one wants him. Who would be interested in a nerdy-looking, skinny gay guy? Absolutely no one, that’s who.

Oh, here’s another fun fact: he’s in the closet. Laugh with me guys. Ok enough laughter. I said enough! What’s wrong with you? I have a story to tell.

It’s fucking hilarious, isn’t it? He’s in the closet. If I’m gay and I have his looks, I’ll be in the closet too. In fact, I would lock the closet, swallow the damn key and let myself rot in the fucking closet if I were him. We’re all better off that he’s inside the stupid closet, at least that’s one less ugly people in the world because quite frankly, there’s just too many of them already.

There’s maybe one thing that makes him pleasing to somebody else, his personality, if you’re into that goody-goody, always-wanting-everyone-around-him-to-like-him kind of personality. Honestly, he makes me want to barf sometimes. I mean, why does he feel the need to help out somebody? I’m like, ‘before you help somebody else, help yourself first’. He needs all the help he can but he’s afraid to ask for it. He’s a coward, always was and always will be.

On top of that, he’s a fucking loser. Let’s take his dream job for example, he wanted to become a neurosurgeon. A neurosurgeon. As if he’s even smart enough to become one. Did I mention that he almost had to repeat a level in grade school? Yep, he was supposed to repeat a level, if not for his mother who thinks her son is the smartest person in the whole wide world. The mother, who is quite taken by the faked innocence of her child, begged the child’s teacher to let him pass. And so my friend passed, barely. He didn’t know how to read back then for fuck’s sake, doesn’t that amount anything?

So the neurosurgeon dream didn’t come true. Can anyone guess what he became? Anyone? Anyone at all? Well he became a fucking homo, but we’ve already established that. He’s an auditor. Hold the gasps, ladies and gentlemen. How lame and boring is that? Auditor indeed. How he became one is beyond me, he probably cheated off someone really smart back in college. Whatever, right? He has what can possibly be the most loser-riffic profession in the world. If not, then maybe one of the most boring. And people actually pay him to do a boring job? That settles it, I’m right (no surprises there) in thinking that we live in a crazy world, crazy!

Shit, I almost forgot to tell you how old he is. He’s almost thirty. Thank whoever shit that he’s not a virgin anymore. Although I’m not really sure if that’s even true. He says he’s not but how can I be sure? How did he make anyone have sex with him? Drugged the guy probably or made the guy really, really drunk. As in shit-faced drunk. Or the guy was uglier than him, with bad breathe, body odor and the smallest cock in history. If he is really not a virgin, well then, that makes him almost like everybody else. Almost. At least he’s not gonna end up in a remake of a Hollywood movie as the thirty-year old virgin. You read it right folks, thirty is the new forty, everyone knows that. Trust me on this, I know everything after all.

Now we come to the part where we diss where he currently works and lives. In order to save my friend (can’t believe I would ever say that) from all of your sympathies and attempts at trying to make him feel better after reading this story of his, I will not mention where he is exactly. Let’s just say that he’s somewhere where there’s lots and lots of sand (and no, he does not live in a beach), where the summer is extremely hot and the winter, cold. He’s in the most gay-unfriendly place in this planet. So much so that he’s better off in the Arctic or Antarctic. At least there maybe some weird gay polar bears or seals there who’d wanna do him. Why the heck would polar bears or seals do that? I already mentioned they’re WEIRD, moron. Don’t you know the meaning of the word ‘weird’?

Back to what I was trying to say, my stupid friend decided to work abroad and he picked the sandy country of all places. He could have gone to the US, UK, Australia or other countries, but he had to make the wrong choice. Why? Because he’s dumb and a coward, that’s why. Anyway, the sandy country is probably the only one that wanted him. Who would want him?

Ooh, the reason behind his decision to work in the sandy country is really lame. They’re poor. They are so poor, his family would probably starve to death if he ever stops sending them money, which he won’t do. He’s a goody-goody, remember? I told you he’s a loser. He has put his whole life on hold just because he wants to make the lives of his family better. How admirable, not! I can taste bile and I so want to vomit, I just don’t want to mess up my computer. It’s not worth it, he’s not worth it.

I bet he’s very lonely right now. I’m going to wager that he feels so alone at this very moment, he will probably jump at the first guy who offers to have sex with him. He’s that desperate. Did he even have a relationship with anyone before? Probably to perverted guys whose main concern is to get off. Guys who probably fuck him then ask him to immediately leave as soon as they cum.

Here’s another trivia, my friend’s a writer. Or he’d like to think of himself as one, but he’s not. If you read any of his sorry excuse for a story, you’ll understand what I’m talking about. He doesn’t even know how to construct a coherent sentence, what more do I need to say? The characters in his story—depressing—almost as if he patterned them after himself. Who would want to read about a guy who has never been kissed? It’s not even an original story. There’s a movie with that storyline, right? See, he’s hopeless. He should just stop writing altogether. And don’t get me started about his poems, they suck big time. I’m just happy that he decided to stop writing poems or whatever it is he writes that don’t even rhyme. I will petition that he be banned from writing if I gave shit. But whatever. It’s his time he wastes writing silly stories. I don’t care.

Speaking of writing, he bought books to help him write. How silly is that? What kind of a writer buys books about writing? The bad kind, that’s what. How can you even call yourself a writer if you don’t know how to write? Did I already mention that he’s crazy? If not, then he is. He makes believe that he’s a writer, what other proof do you need? He’s a crazy fucking homo bitch!

He’s crushing on someone right now. This one’s a total hottie. Tall, cute, straight nose, nice lips and the eyes! He ogles the guy whenever he sees him and the guy doesn’t even know he exists. My friend is fantasizing that the guy is into him too. What utter nonsense! The guy is much too good for him and never in a million years will the guy ever like him as my friend likes the guy. It’s a mathematical improbability. The guy will probably choose to die than be with my friend. I will if I’m in the guy’s place.

By the way, my friend’s name is William. That’s the only thing pretty about my friend, his name. Everything else, well let’s just say that he doesn’t give the name William justice and leave it at that.

If after all that rambling you’re still reading on then there’s something very wrong with you. Who will do something like that? Oh I forget, there’s you. You’re almost on the same level in loser-ville as my friend. No one beats my friend though, he’s a total loser. He’s bound to win a game show about losers, but that’s a different kind of loser. That and my friend’s skinny, as in a gush of wind will probably blow him over.

Let’s recap. My friend—loser, ugly, loser, dumb, loser, gay, loser, loser, loser. You probably feel sorry for him, don’t you? Well that’s because you’re so gullible. He’s not pitiable. He’s a loser. He did that to himself and he’s just paying for the consequences of his action. Or inaction. I’m not sorry for him. He doesn’t deserve any emotion from me.

What’s my name? Why the fuck do you want to know? Well it’s Will—iam. Same name as my friend, you say? That’s another way to look at it. This story is all about me? I think I underestimated you after all. This is my story. You feel sorry for me now? Don’t be because I feel sorry for you. It was so easy to deceive you. I just say that this was my friend’s story and you believed me. Why? Did I ever give you any impression that I am trustworthy? Nope. It’s your fault for believing a jerk like me. So there.

You still feel sorry for me? Oh how sweet. Get over it. I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t need you. Just leave me alone. You want to give me a virtual hug or something? Stop right there. Step back. I said stop! I don’t need your hug. Let go of me. I’m fine.

I’m fine...