I Like Glue in My Coffee

I like glue in my coffee because I’m a white, gangster, mutherfucking bitch.  Fuck the cream and sugar, I rip tags off mattresses bitches.

When my teacher told me not to eat the glue, I stood up at my desk and said, “I don’t need to eat the glue bitch, I like glue in my coffee mutherfucker.”  She sent me to the office and the principal asked me what my problem was.

I told him, “Fuck you honkey, cracker bitch, you wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be a middle-class white kid trying to make a dollar and pass the third grade.  Shit is real in my neighborhood, the HOA is cracking down on people parking on the streets and making my parents keep the landscaping presentable.  That’s why I like glue in my coffee bitch, because it eases the stress.” 

He told me if I had one more outburst that he was going to expel me.

So I replied, “That’s why I like glue in my coffee mutherfucker, because I want to get expelled, go to an alternative school where I will fit in better nigga’.  I’m tired of all these trick ass ho’s trying to make me do math and read and shit.  That’s why I like glue in my coffee.”

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Dear Pussies

I’m tired of the whining, I’m tired of the bitching and complaining.  America has turned into a nation of big, giant, dripping wet pussies.

(I mean no disrespect to women or their vaginas with this post.  I quite like vaginas; it just so happens that the word “pussy” is used universally to describe people as wimps.  I didn’t create that.)

On Patriotism: Stop moaning every time I say I’m against war, that doesn’t mean I’m unpatriotic, it just means I have a differing opinion than those who enjoy bombing the hell out of dark-skinned people half way across the world.

Hey, they killed about 3,000 of us at the Twin Towers; I think we are more than even now.

How much longer do we need to prove our dick-size?

And don’t patronize me with your American Flag displays.  Nothing screams “Patriot” more than your old ass truck with a confederate flag waving from the tailgate.  AMERICA, FUCK YEAH.

On American Idol Contestants: Hey parents, if your kid sings like a wounded dog, please have the courage to tell them that they suck.

When you hide the truth from your kids in an effort not to hurt their feelings, you are only setting them up for embarrassment and failure.

It’s better for you, their parents, to tell them that they suck instead of encouraging them to display their ill-fated vocals in front of a panel of judges and millions of Americans on television.

“But mommy and daddy, you said I was the best singer in the county.  Why did everyone laugh at me?”  See, just tell them they suck and none of that will happen.  Continue reading