Personal diary of a diseased madman. History, Science, Jokes, Opinions, Observations. I want to write something cool enough so I can make enough money to start my own country in South America. 



You’re beautiful and I think I’ve finally moved on from you. I fell in love with your imagination not your ass. I don’t know what I did or why you just left and I don’t care. I don’t need someone that sketchy and cowardly in my life. You can be my friend but I’ll never be with someone who just ups and leaves with no explanation. That’s the cowards way out and you know it. I don’t care about your reasons and I don’t want to know them. But maybe one day after you grow up a bit you’ll realize that cutting someone out with no reason is cruel and cold. I had forgotten I was cruel and cold. You made me feel nice for a while, like I was almost a human again and could have real feelings for someone else. Thanks for helping me come back to myself. You’re a champ. Go find you a little superficially scary bearded man and be happy. You know you want to. I don’t want forgiveness for my wildness. 


Someone called me “Brave” today. I said “Thank you” but deep down I know I’m not. Fighting this disease does not make me brave. It takes zero bravery to fight for your life. Bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway. I’m not afraid of this disease. Why fear something that you know? It makes me vomit, it makes me nauseated, it has destroyed my life but I do not fear it. It’s hard to be afraid of a tiger when you wake up looking at him everyday.

Brave! BAH! Bravery is bullshit. Bravery is what get’s you killed. Bravery is sticking your neck out for people that aren’t you. I’m not sticking my neck out. I’m fighting for my own. I am doing what I was born and bred to do. Fight. Fighting and memorizing are what I do best. I am simply a fighter who was born to fight and am in the middle of one hell of a fight. Will I win? Maybe, maybe not. The deck is kind of stacked against me. I just ate some Goldfish crackers and I want to vomit as I am writing this. Any man with a problem like that ain’t doin so hot and he might not live long.

But I can tell you this. I am a fighter, born into conflict and blessed by what I can only assume is God himself with the ability to never give in. I will fight until my last drop of blood hits the dirt and I’m gasping my last. I will never give in because I can’t. To give in is to die. I’m not brave. I just don’t want to die. So I fight against the coming darkness. I scream and shout. I beat and bang. I let the world know that I go down swinging. I take all comers. I am bloody and I am beaten. But I’m still standing and I will never fall nor will I fail. I am The Wolf and I don’t lose. I am a savage beast. I belong to a time that has already passed. I was meant to die charging across some field into the teeth of an enemy and dying with a smile. But it looks like we can’t all have beautiful deaths such as that.

Sometimes we have to slowly rot but that doesn’t mean you can’t fight the rot. You fight it with your mind not your fists. Physical courage and bravery matter little in my life anymore. Even a dog is brave, I’m more dangerous than a dog. I am a man, I am the most dangerous game. I am the one who finds a way and punches through the veil of night to let you know. Never ever give up! Clinging to your own life is not bravery. It’s what you have to do. Never confuse duty with bravery. Fight for your own life and take no prisoners. You just have to be a crazy savage like me to enjoy it. 

God I am a savage. I miss a fight. I miss being hit in the face and awakening that I feel in my soul when that happens. Ladies if you want me to fuck the shit out of you. Slap me in the face HARD, please. I’ll ruin your pussy and you’ll leave my back looking like a road map. I’m hard and I am brutal. I was raised by hard and brutal people. Kindness was something that was beaten into me. I’m a caveman who was taught to write and GOD DO I LOVE A GOOD FIGHT!

*Too bad the only fighting I get to do lately is with over sensitive cunts on the internet who are scared of real life* 

Things I love.

Here are a few things I love. Feel free to try to dissuade me from loving them and joining your insanity. 

1. Pooping- It feels good. I don’t care what you say. Taking a nice big shit is awesome. I don’t care about your race,sex or gender. Enjoying a good shit is universal. 

2. Pussy Hair- I like a woman with a hairy cunt. I like the way it feels. I love the way it smells. If you’re not into that then fellas you are missing out. 

3. Red Meat- It’s good. It’s bad for you. I don’t give a shit. I ate two hamburgers today. I may have staved off my death by doing so. I feel for the vegans. They’re missing out. 

4. Weed- It keeps me alive. It allows me to eat two hamburgers. It makes me funnier. I should go smoke some but I don’t want to. I like being sober and writing shit into the internet. 

5. Belts- I like wearing a belt. It makes me feel like a serious human being. It also keeps my pants up and serves as a place to keep phones and tools. 

6. Boots- They make my feet and bad ankle feel secure. They also make me a smidge taller so I can go around all day feeling like a liar. 

7. Trolling- I love to troll. I am The Troll. I should change my name to that. But yea serious people are losers. I’m not sorry. Serious people are often the most silly to me. I love their inflated egos. I like to go up and use a pin to poke holes in them. 

8. Writing- I think that’s self evident. I have no idea why. I just do. I like to write strange things into the internet just to see if people like them. It’s even better when they hate them. 

9. Guns- I have guns. I do love them. I understand that not everyone does. I like mine. I use them in a safe manner and only when appropriate. I don’t think anyone from the government is coming to take them. I saw some idea on Tumblr that said I should have to keep them locked in a box and I could only have one like they do in Japan and people would come around to check or something. I found it to mostly be ineffectual pipe dream bullshit. This is America, not Japan. You people are nonsense. You drive people like me into the arms of the NRA because you’re just as crazy as them. I love guns. I like to eat deer, rabbits and birds. Guns are how you get them. No I will not use a bow. The Chinese made gun powder and it would be an insult to them to be a Luddite. If you want to talk about “natural and whole foods”… Let’s go gut a deer. Buncha granola eaters. 

10. Being naked- Nudity is the shit. People who enjoy clothes are odd to me. It’s a cloth that you put between you and the world. Why do you care what it looks like? Why do you care who made it? The piece of cloth from TJ Maxx was probably made in the sweatshop next to the one from Macy’s for 14 cents an hour yet the one from Macy’s is better or something. It just seems like a scam to me. The only reason I wear clothes is because society makes me and sometimes it get’s really cold so you have to or you’ll get sick. I also wear them to give me an edge over the animals when I hunt but otherwise I’d rather be naked. In fact, right now, there is a hairy naked man writing things into the internet and that man is me. 

When Generation Wuss creates something they have so many outlets to display it that it often goes out into the world unfettered, unedited, posted everywhere, and because of this freedom a lot of the content displayed is rushed and kind of shitty and that’s OK—it’s just the nature of the world now—but when Millennials are criticized for this content they seem to collapse into a shame spiral and the person criticizing them is automatically labeled a hater, a contrarian, a troll. And then you have to look at the generation that raised them, that coddled them in praise—gold medals for everyone, four stars for just showing up—and tried to shield them from the dark side of life, and in turn created a generation that appears to be super confident and positive about things but when the least bit of darkness enters into their realm they become paralyzed and unable to process it.

Bret Ellis’ “Generation Wuss” Essay should be nailed to the door of every schoolroom and website.

Technically, I prefer “Generation Yay” but I won’t quibble.

(via richardrushfield)

I have a crush.

She is beautiful. We write hot pornographic things to each other. No naked selfies. I would share but I’m not an asshole. It’s better than pictures. Way better. Btw you delete pictures to keep things fresh. Don’t hoard them like trophies. They’re not a thing to be hoarded like gold. They’re a glimpse of a beautiful moment that holding on to will ruin. Now I know everyone in the world will disagree with me about that one but I don’t really care. I think I’ve done it all now. I have descended into the world of internet sex. I might have a problem but I only write to one woman and she writes to me. I really don’t know if she writes to anyone else but I don’t care. If you get tangled up over a woman you’ve never met then you my friend have a real problem. Still though, I can’t stop thinking about eating her pussy. 


Asa Smith. Celestial Illustrations from Smith’s Illustrated Astronomy. 1851. 

Wood engravings with hand highlighting, written by the principal of Public School No. 12 in New York City with the goal “to present all the distinguishing principles in physical Astronomy with as few words as possible”.


Uniforms of the French in the American Revolution
1 - Officer, French Navy, 1778-17832 - Bombardier, Bombardiers de la Marine, 1778-833 - Fusilier, Corps royal de l’infanterie de la Marine, 1778-834 - Fusilier, Barrois Regiment, 1776-82


Uniforms of the French in the American Revolution

1 - Officer, French Navy, 1778-1783
2 - Bombardier, Bombardiers de la Marine, 1778-83
3 - Fusilier, Corps royal de l’infanterie de la Marine, 1778-83
4 - Fusilier, Barrois Regiment, 1776-82

STERCULIUS: Roman god of fertilizer. Or, to be blunt, god of poop.


Romans had gods for everything. Now, they might not have beaten the ancient Egyptians (who had a god of the sun, the sun’s rays, and the sun disk) but the Romans still approached ludicrousness with their large and continually-expanding pantheon. Take Stericulius, for instance. A god of poop?…

You are all aware that all of constructs about life and 93 percent of things that “offend” you are pretty much bullshit? Just be honest and drop the holier than thou attitude. We’re all equal. We’re going to be turned into dirt sooner or later. So sit back and fucking relax a bit. It’s probably not that important or maybe it is. I don’t know what you weirdos get up to. But nothing and I repeat nothing is as important as being honest. Everything else is bullshit. As long as you’re honest with yourself and others then you’ll be alright. And when you die  someone will plant and flower over your grave and it will grow and we can have a nice metaphor for all the emotional tear jerkers to fap to. And I’ll be the ghost looking at them going “You guys are fucked up. It’s biology. Quit crying about a flower.”