Eh, fuck it.

I had a bunch of things I wanted to get off my chest, yeah, this place is called my little Ranty but at the same time, fuck it, that's just what it is, I don't know why have the sudden urge to try and put some meaning behind something that doesn't, it's pretty fucking useless to do it. Maybe I'm feeling a bit more contemplative than usual? Maybe. I'm 34, single, recently single, and I live at home. Yeah, there's a truck load of jokes right there about basement dwellers and everything else that flops around uselessly in society.

But, we don't have a basement, and I would love the fuck out of that shit. I mean, why the fuck do basements get so much shit anyways? It's like an entire place to yourself, fuck yeah! You could make that shit into your own little office! which, I'd totally do.



Anyways, more on that later, this is one of the rare times where I don't have my head shoved so far up my own ass that I take a little breather ffrom the anger, and ranting... Fuck that, nope. Not happening, I'm tired of always tyring to reason things out, trying to calm the fires of my coffee fueled mind to appeal to the older generation, the ones who constantly bitch and ocmplain about everything that isn't under their direct control.

Maybe I'm a dom? I have no fucking clue, I've just been on 9gag a lot lately, and sometimes I keep forgetting that I'm not really one of them, maybe I am? Maybe I'm not.

I don't know. Communities, online or off, and I just don't really mix that well.

Maybe it comes from too much time spent with 300 other people crammed in a compartment during my time at great lakes? That might be it, just the thought of being around other people since I came home from that place is enough to really just... give me the skives I guess.

It's not that I'm antisocial, it's just that there's a raccoon in my room and I can't pluck my nose hair.

Also there's a bunch of sparkly things in a light bulb and I'm not really sure what I was talking about since half of this was written two days ago, and the other half is probably, most likely going to be some amalgamation of random ass fucking bullshit and WE ARE BACK!

with THE FIRE! the FURY! and the fact that my ass itches right now, but I'm waaaaay too busy to fucking pay any attention to it right now is absolutely amazing.



Do you want to know what else is amazing? Stuff. Things. Other people. Not knowing my ass from seven holes in the ground till one day, Andrew Garfield sticks suction cups on his hands and just super glues his ass, YES HIS ASS, to our back door. The Glass backdoor, not the shit you're thinking of.

Come on, it's Andrew fucking Garfield. He hates Mondays and is a fat orange cat who loves lasagna, played Spider-man, and promptly told everyone to fuck off. Wait, is that how this works? Or am I just coffee writing again?

I dunno, maybe I am?

the fact of the matter is that Kate Twinset is an utter bitch, and I'll tell you why right the fuck now. It's because I threw a penny and screamed, "PENNY FOR YOUR FUCKING THOUGHTS!?" she called me an asshole, and I thought my investment returned more than I put in, so all in all, great times to invest in dimes and sling shots. Because you never know what else will fucking happen when you've got gophers in your room, staring with their beady little eyes, trying to decipher the messages of the universe based on how long your farts rip into your bed. This is very educational, and i'm not sorry at all.



=================================



Another thing to not be sorry about is ending things with Ashley, yes, I'm going to talk about that because it's still kind of pissing me off the ultimate reason being was that she was getting older.



Really? We all get older as time passes, like, what specifically are you telling me this for? Is it that I saw myself getting fat and you thought I thought you demanded that all thoughts about myself reflect upon you my opinion of me? That makes no fucking sense, we both know this, it's just a god damned shame that something so wonderful had to end because of aging.



Well, guess what, it's going to get worse, you'll develop wrinkles, your body will sag in places, borf out in others, and yes, yes... Eventually, you will look fat in everything. but that's not for another 15 years or so, maybe 30? But that begs the question, just what the fuck will happen every time you're in a relationship and you have another birthday? Is this going to turn into a Taylor Swift Thing where you release a new album for every guy you leave? I've got to wonder what the albums are going to be called:



32? "Happy Break up to you!"

33? "The times are a changing"

34? "Them clocks keep a tickin'"

35? "My baby makin' days are a coming to an end"



I'm not really sure what the utter fuck you were thinking, and what other reasons fell by the wayside when you trying singling out the ONE really bad thing about our relationship. Seriously, it... it was dumb, it was stupid, and beyond a measure of a doubt, you could've thought of something more reasonable than, "Well, time keeps on ticking ticking ticking, in to the future!" Because when you're 90 and there's a long line of ex boyfriends behind you, there's going to be legends made about "The woman who put Taylor Swift to Shame!" And yes, I'm having a damned lark about it, because this is what happens when something so stupid becomes the reason for wanting to leave.



And I mean every word of it, and meant every word I said as well, "I'm not going to try and get you back, not going to stop you from walking out that door, not going to touch you, because you've already made up your mind about what's going to happen, and despite everything, this is just the way things are.

"Now, I know you've got a busy schedule, between dropping off and picking up packages, picking up the kid, and driving home, so thank you for your time, it was wonderful, I'll miss every second of it, but now I think it's time we parted ways. Goodbye and good luck."



And yes, i interrupted when you asked if I wanted to, I said no. i meant no. And I haven't changed my mind, why? Why not this time out of all the other times, out of all the other relationships did I choose not to try and get you back? Because, as you said, you couldn't see a future with me. Or maybe your friends or family convinced you there wouldn't be a future, so you told me, knowing my hair trigger panic button when it comes to things like that, and maybe you wanted a face to face because you wanted me to make a scene, or thought I would at least.



I didn't make a scene, there wasn't anything to make a scene about, I had long since dealt with the panic, the anger, the rage, the heart ache, and now was just the silence, because the force, and heat, and pressure had long since passed, and outside of the blinding realization that I was just some two year long romp of random sex, where you hid me from your friends, family, and brother outside of the first time meeting them, you just hid me from view, stating that now wasn't a good time to talk with them, or they didn't feel like talking.



Clearly, that was a lie, because sources tell me that they loved having me around, they loved talking to me, or at least reacting, with the dad, I could never really tell, but everyone got along with me, and I got along with everyone. That night when we got home, and your brother gave me a big hug and said that I had his respect and friendship? That meant a lot to me. truly, but I have to wonder what went through your head when you realized that I was slowly become a part of the family, not by blood or marriage, but simply by extension and familiarity.



Did you think it was a good thing? A bad thing? Did you theorize on what implications or complications that it might cause or could or would cause if you left me or the other way around? Did you try to think of every angle? Because lemme tell you something, while I was away at boot camp, that's all I thought about, you. Only you, the love I had for you got me through boot-camp, and maybe you were thinking of leaving me then? While I was far and away, because I noticed a significant mood change in the letters you sent me, they went from glee to worry to anxiety, and right when they went to the anxiety side of things, did I realize, or at least have an inkling as to what the fuck was going to happen.



when we started seeing each other less and less, till you decided to cancel every time or we decided to reschedule, or the last time we did see each as boyfriend and girlfriend, there wasn't the kid, I loved playing with the kid, the kid and I got along great. I'm guessing that you just wanted her to forget about me in time, which, hey, it happens, and I've got no problem with that, but you should've been upfront with me. For a month and a half, you played on my feelings for you, and yeah, while you must've REALLY been agonizing over what reason, if any, to tell me was the final one, the vaguest shit I've ever heard, "I just don't see a future with you" has got to be the biggest pile of boiled down shit I've ever heard.



In that point in the conversation I wanted to be the one to do it, I controlled that conversation till the very last, not ever reacting even as I saw the tears well up in your eyes, your face start to flush red, and your voice start to crack. I don't know if that was for realisies or if you were just playing the part to see what I tried to do. But you must've seen the laptop and the empty coffee thermos and had a secret "Oh fuck." moment, because it's then you realized that when I'm focused on something, nothing else matters, interruption to me are just minute moments in time, pauses between progress of the task I'm in the middle of, and yes, yes, yes, I did feel a little bad, but in the end, this was what you came to that Starbucks for, and that's the result you got. You wanted to break up with me, so I broke up with you.



I listened to you, processing everything, knowing what was to come, and I owned the fuck out of that shit. I sent you away, because I had shit I was in the middle on and I just did not want anything else to screw up the progress i had made. And yeah, me acting ballsy because I left you might seem like a major asshole thing to do, but at the end of the day, I was simply finishing what you started when you told me we needed to talk. I knew exactly what ythe fuck was going on and it surprised me in no way when the cards fell as they did.



So yes, have yourself a pity party because things didn't go your way, one thing happened where you weren't in control of the situation, but know this, Morgan James Gavin is not a fucking fool.

Even though I just referred to myself in the third person, because that was fucking weird, I'm not even going to pretend it wasn't. And now, much like our relationship, I'm putting that shit in the past, and moving on to other topics.



=========================



Like the fact that apparently there's a new channel that's going to upstage the king of YouTube himself, Pewdiepie. And to be honest, it's just going to be something immensely satisfying to witness. Look, I'm being honest here, no ones views ever match up with their sub-count. If the sub-count of high, the views per vid are going to be low.

If the view count is high, there's going to be a low sub-count. And if both values are the same, than that channel is the fucking devil and should be dunked in a vat of boiling Holy Water just to be on the safe side.



Holy fuck, how the shit long have I been writing? I dunno, I don't care. I've been hypnotized by the feeling of my fingers slamming against the keyboard in a rhythmic fashion for quite a while, and the trance music is pretty awesome to boot as well. I'm currently on a few dating apps, Tinder, two accounts, OKC, one account with a really obscure email address that I've all but forgotten about, and to be honest, it's kind of one I've used for a sock troll account on Facebook, I have a number of emails, most of which I've somehow forgotten about, so it's a pretty good bet that I pulled it out of my ass at the last minute lol.



Seriously, I'm having a blast on OKCupid again, they've updated the swipe thing a bunch, sadly, no blogs, but I think that's where the magic wasn't at. It's a dating site, not MySpace, and it's a relief to see it return to the previous version of the king of five nights at Freddy.



Speaking of which, awkward fucking turn of events there, Ultimate Custom night kind of failed my expectations, just a little. Seriously, it's like the challenge wasn't even there, or maybe the story could've been more than just "This dudes in hell, dying all over the place" Scott Cawthawn you douche... build a better story next time.