one day i will die.

and on that day i hope that if you respect me you will do the only thing that i have ever asked of anyone

and thats to be honest.

on the day that i die, if you happen to talk about me, tell the truth. if you always hated my fucking guts say you know what, i hated his fucking guts.

if you loved me to no end say i loved that peice of shit.

say i couldnt spell or i was lazy or my uncapitalization of letters drove you crazy or my objectification of women dissapointed you

if you kissed me and my breath stank say to the world that you kissed me and my fucking breath stank.

to me the highest respect that you could give to someone is truthfuless and the lowest diss you could make is to lie.

for in lying you are saying, “youre so fucking stupid i could sell you a load of bullshit and you’d buy it.”

and by being honest and truthful and forthcoming you are saying, “i trust that you will take these truths and make something positive from it with me, because i want to make something good with you.”

dont kiss my dead ass on the day that my spirit is lifted from this mortal coil.

if you liked me, tell me so while i can hear it.

if you didnt like me, have the nads to say so, and when people call you classless tell them to suck your big hairy black cock.

of course im happy when bad people die.

and if youre honest with yourself, let alone, me, you’d admit that youre happy when bad people die too.

and some people will inevitably say, oh i might have disagreed with his politics, but he was a super nice guy to me and my kids and gave us all his autograph

as if being nice and giving autographs means anything.

its what you do when it matters that counts.

i could be so “nice” to you but if i was a shitty writer or a shitty blogger or if you kissed my stinky mouth and i was a shitty kisser, those are the things that matter.

and if youre a shitty president of the united states of america, then fuck you, i dont care how bright your smile is or how many autographs you sign for the kids.

easist thing in the world to do is to learn how to bullshit people.

to learn how to smile, and remember peoples names, and have a firm handshake, and dodge questions, and make backroom deals.

hardest thing in the world to do is learn how to be super honest with people.

to learn how to communicate clearly, and trust people, and deal with the consequences, and accept the strange looks that people give you when they realize that youre actually being “real” with them.

which is why so few people in the spotlight are even truthful.

because its risky

and scary

and lonley and vulnerable.

unless youve done it for 100 years

and then its a peice of fucking cake.

theres a hot chick laying on my couch right now and its not miss montreal and its not clipper girls cousin and its not anna kournikova and its not the tan eyed girl and yet they all know who it is

its my true love

and shes hot and i will now escort her to my room.

and when i die i hope you play tsar on your stereo whether you liked them or not.

and fuck.

zulieka + kat + today is anti’s birthday

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