Woman - The inside story of the female kind told by some dick egotistical masocist motherfucker. And me.

Welcome to the end, of high prices! Always wanted to start like that, didn't know how so might as well throw it in here since half of you didn't even read this far. Listen up kids, for I am about to entail the full story of women, and how they became the greatest asset of my life, and never really in it. In this story filled with magic and bullshit, I will envelop your minds with such assfuckery, that you'll begin to question the very existence of your soul. It's mind blowing shit and most of it was thought up drunk. And possibly high....OFF LIFE. No really, I'm retarded. Anyways, I'd like to start off by thanking you all, for no reason specifically, but because you're you and you've probably excelled at living more than the average human being simply because you read my blog. So for this, THANK YOU. 

Snap out of it buddy!

The wee hours of the morning. And here I am spending it by writing this dumb blog. Honestly. Lately, as many have noticed, I haven't been myself lately. In more ways than one. I feel as if my past self is slowly drifting away and this new, shittier self has taken me by the throat. It seems that I myself, cannot control what may be. What the fuck man, snap the shit out of it, is what I'd like to say. I find myself wanting. Wanting more than I could ever possibly offer. Everything needs a fair trade in value, whether it be purchases or simple friendships, it all comes down to what you can offer the other person. Can you offer comfort? Or do you bring distaste to the table. I'm a little in between. Not only am I crabby at times and could possibly be the most annoying shit ever, but I don't really have much else going for me besides my career, which hopefully is moving in the right direction. All this doubt in one paragraph is probably making you sick, especially coming from me, cocky ass Jean Paul. Well, I'm human too.

My equilibrium is fucked.

So. I survived cancer.

Celebration of the souls combine, our lives fulfilled. Summer. Cock.

I try to become the best at what I do. It's an egotistical thing. I am a poet, in both terminology and bodily. However that comes across to you, my beautiful readers, is your own. Your own what? Fuck you I'm not your nanny. Do I look like- Okay I'm getting off topic here. What I've been trying to put into words but with suave has hidden it with distracting text to make my post seem that much bigger is, that I want to better myself day by day, challenging whatever boundaries I set for myself. Sure I'm as green as it gets and there are tons out there who could probably dominate me in every possible way. But fuck them, I'll get better, and show their shit that I can rock a kitchen like no other. I can probably adapt to my surroundings more so than most people, and get a kitchen going in days. I've always been thrown into the fire, hoping that I'll come out alive. And I always do. I've never once cracked under pressure, because I never let it get to me. I'm battle hardened for a greenhorn, but I know that I have my limits and I dare myself to break them each and every waking moment. I will make it my fucking promise to the world and to everyone I've ever known that I'll make a name for myself. Whether it be owning a restaurant, leading a kitchen, hosting a show, or just cooking better than anyone you know, it will happen. I'm cocky sure, but my humility and simplicity is what will be key to molding my future.

Culinary Travels of the Uniballer: The Fuckfest Trifecta of Fuck

Fuck. I'm beat. Sore all over. Chemotherapy has been riding my ass for a good 6 weeks now but the end is in sight. 3 more weeks of ass rapeage, and it's all over. Unless I get shit-tastic news that I need to prolong the chemo because my nurses have been giving me horse cum instead of chemo. Regardless of what happens, I need to get by this because just recently I have been promoted to the night chef at my new place, The Homeway. I don't know, I have been getting mixed feelings about the rapid progression from being a dick sucking prep guy, to a shitty sandwich maker and now a menu producing chef. Sure, I don't doubt my ability to learn and cook really fast, and (sometimes) good, but I do know that I'm still green in the culinary world. I feel as if I'll never stop growing, or learning for that matter. All I could really do is put my best into the upcoming menu, and hope that people enjoy my food and as they eat what I cook, they know that I put my all into it. However, this being my first serious position in the kitchen brigade, I don't want it to end here. I don't know how long I'll be there, or even in Toronto for that matter, because I'm always going to be a sponge, learning the crafts of those around me so that one day, I'll open a restaurant that will satisfy my needs and the bellies of the people around me.

The Adventures of Half Sack 2 - Cancer Strikes Back

Hello there world! Welcome to my masterpiece comprised of all of my hatred, filth and utter comic experiences. Wherever I may shit, I will shit with pride. Thanks to all of you who read this religiously, you're setting yourself up for fantastic failure. For the others, fuck you and read my mindless blog. I promise it'll make your otherwise uneventful life much more uneventful. Seeing as I'll most likely bash whatever lifestyle you think you lead. Typically, I get responses here and there from brain spazzing fans, who tell me what to write. I would love to share your hatred for 'dumb ass bitches', but because you actually think that's an acceptable terminology, I should fucking kill you. Or when people say, " Write about those stupid chinks who yell." Thanks dick brain, you just named the entire continent of Asia. I truly love you all, especially because you constantly give me inspiration to become a serial killer and go on a mass killing spree. There are tons of you out there who disagree with the plethora of hate that spews from my mouth. To you, open your eyes and brainwash yourself to think like me. Why do I say something so damn cocky? Because I can. And because you're still reading.

Git on thar n show me dem titties!

I am absolutely astonished by boobs. As extreme as that sounds, the word doesn't even describe how much I love them. For all the chicks who are calling me a pervert by reading this, fuck you bitch, I bet my remaining nut you dream of dick all day. It doesn't really matter how big they are, as long as they fit the person. For instance, a super hot babe, with a great ass and a fucking boy chest is not what anyone planned, it's god's way of telling you to get implants. Or fat chicks with small boobs. What the fuck? Also, skinny chicks with blimps are retarded. Your back is going to kill, and I'm not paying for surgery down the road. Every woman has a unique pair of mamma jammas. Most of them suit them. Others, are unfortunate to suffer from what I call, the Aretha Franklin complex. Sure the astonishing singer has a voice only the gods themselves can create. But man, her titties are like the grand canyon, without the grand part. No one wants them.

Baby, you can sing....but that's about it.