Distaste and Mistrust.

#1. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Me. "NOTHING"

#2. "HE'S PROBABLY PLAYING GAMES."

#1+2. *SNIGGER LIKE A BUNCH OF FAGGOTS*.

Hey fuckwads, not to be a pretentious CUNT, but I honestly believe my life to be more righteous and just-worthy than both of yours combined. Despite yours being about 30 years old than I, you married into this family, and thus I judge your decision AS FOOLISH. Your presumptuous pondering of my actions clearly indicate that you completely ignore the fact that I really fucking hate your faces.

How about I make ASSUMPTIONS about your lives?
#1. You're quite possibly the biggest bitch I've ever seen. More so than 50 Michael Cera's COMBINED. You're a scrawny piece of shit that I could, and potentially anything with an arm could take out in less than a punch - that's right, all we'd have to do is fake a swing and your balls will have shrunk so hard that you would have died due to sheer BEING-A-CUNT-NESS.
You deny it but everyone knows that your wife dominates the family and you're just some sort of crutch in her wake of being. You have job that you actually know nothing about and when I was forced to ask you about it, you knew less THAN I DID ABOUT IT. WHAT ARE YOU, SOME SORT OF JOB-FAKER-GUY? Are you as cunt-ry as those Japs that pretend they have a job for the sake of 'pride'? Oh wait, you don't have any because it all leaked out when your wife rammed a 20" strap on up your ARSE.

#2. I'M EXHAUSTED FROM WRITING NUMBER 1, SO JUST KNOW THAT YOU'RE JUST AS MUCH OF A CUNT AS HE IS.


"BUT QUOC, WHY WHINE ABOUT IT ON YOUR BLOG AS OPPOSED TO TELLING THESE THINGS TO THEIR FACES?"

After the detailed scene I depicted at the start of this blog, I kept eye contact with my monitor and said:

"WHY DON'T YOU TWO BE FUCKING BETTER FAGGOT PARENTS YOU FUCKING SHIT CUNT PARENTS?"

Oh yeah, I went there BECAUSE I'M ONE ANGRY MOTHER FUCKER APPARENTLY.

Common Raven.

Let the hate train roll.

I don't even know who these kids are. They send them upstairs so they can neglect their children are be fucking retard parents that only want to KARAOOOOKE like a bunch of fucking Idol wannabes. Hey fuckers, did you ever notice that the volume nob can't actually go any higher? THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING DOING IT AT MAX VOLUME. But lo' and behold!, the children can actually rival the travesty of your voices with their own. I don't get it, are your ears not fully developed enough as to being the equivalent of an old man who has to speak louder to hear his own voice? But this time around, you don't just get a grumpy old man who has the potential to be funny, you get a bunch of whiny fucks blabbering of non-intellectual bullshit and laughing and screaming in a vocal string on such a level it actually physically hurts my ears.
"BUT QUOC, I'M SURE YOU WERE JUST THE SAME WHEN YOU WERE THEIR AGE!"
This is where you're wrong, at my age, I was tempered to sit and wait, speak when spoken to and respect the surroundings as if I was insignificant as I really was and am. Back in the day when you could actually discipline children in a logical sense. Even an animal would understand that if the following implications of its actions was a jolt of pain, then that action is undesirable and should not be re-enacted.

Now-a-days you have a bunch of misfit children being brought up in a world of make believe, parent leashes, sugar coated reality and foam covered play sets. A world where the actual effect of wrong doing has been removed completely. If you miscalculate a jump you are more than likely to get hurt, and this is the sign that you did something wrong. Now with the 'government intervention', the soft padded slides and swings at the park immediately inform the user that "No matter what you do, you're not going to be affected by the resulting implication!" - literally the worst message you could ever teach anyone or anything. This leads to the belief of self-trust and trust in the world; too much confidence, that they strive themselves on this feeling of invincibility in their surroundings that they employ unto themselves a pursuit of 'righteous action' in finding ways they can exploit their invulnerability.

I only hope I live long enough to see the day that the generation after us will crumble under their own lack of causality teachings.

In State.

My uncle who lives in someone else's garage asked me directions to my brothers room so he could sleep in his bed. I have him directions and said aloud "Sleep in your own bed you fucking poor piece of shit cunt." He didn't hear me apparently.

I actually went down stairs to the festivities, got a drink, thought to myself "What the fuck am I doing here" and went back upstairs to the safety of my computer - all in the matter of about 20 seconds.

Am I relaying every small faceted detail of my life as of most recently? Yes, I am. And that's because younger cousins don't understand the bliss of silence -- And as I was typing that sentence, the hoard of misled delinquents-to-be came up the stairs as if they had no sense of weight dispersion and balance and muttered to each other in an overly coherent manner "Why does he stay up there are the time? He's so boooring." to which I hastily replied: "MAYBE I STAY UP HERE ALL THE TIME BECAUSE I HATE ALL OF YOU". They halted in their steps, and finally proved that they could actually exercise 'silence' and proceeded back from whence they came.

Should I feel remorse? Have I scarred them for life? I'd like to think so. Fuck them. I like to imagine that I have the magical ability to tell whether a person will succeed in life - and all of them I see the seedy aura of conformism, ill-mannered lies and fallacies of which they base their opinions on opinionated fools. They will amount to no degree of what they would blindly believe to be 'success' - the want for 'fame' and' fortune' - where in a world plagued with mistrust and a ideology that conformism holds the answer for self achievement, that they will even manage to miss the falsest of desires.

It is in this world I see nothing of requirement. That the human condition comes not natural to me but rather, I have to learn it in a way that most people would have had become accustomed to purely from upbringing but more so, instinct. My reserves of which people would automatically engage for human interaction is filled not with this ability, but rather the inverse of it. There would be people who would consider my literal pleasure from being alone to be 'abnormal'. The state of science and that fake study of 'psychology' aims to create enclosures for 'states of minds' as if they don't contradict themselves in saying that the human mind is a complex thing, though, it can still be isolated and given tags in the ways we deem fit.


TL;DR:
I hate family get togethers. I hate my relatives. I hate the fact that to be human, you're supposed to 'want and desire' human contact when I really really really enjoy being alone.

Solitairey.

Hey kids, instead of mingling with all the towns folk and recieving red packets of money that uncles and aunts reluctantly give away with a façade of a smile on their face because they know that they could've used that ten dollars to pay off their mortgage or repay their debts - I'm sitting at my computer playing solitaire. Here's a classic example of the types of cards I get dealt more than 90% of the time:

Pens.

I just wanted to reiterate how much I hate children. Their voices sound like that of demon spawn and their flawed though process proves to only hinder their ability to control their laughter, thus igniting problem 1 of really faggoty voiced kids laughing.
The noise is almost as bad as male pornstars orgasming.

Scrap Yard.

I played approx. 50 games of Solitaire straight and only won 2.

I hate my life, and this is not going to be a good year.

Preemtive Strike.

FIRST ACTION OF 2010:

Hide the porn.
There's a family get together which I mentioned previously, and to that I must hide the porn. Some of you would think that I hide the porn normally, but when I have a hand on my cock and only one hand to navigate the magical winding ways of the rainbow filled majesty of what most people call the internet, I'd rather not consume time having to click through a labyrinth of .zips and .rars only to come halted at the almighty presence of a password to which I would by then have had dick juices on both hands [because masturbating with one hand either gets really tiring, or really boring] and thus risk my keyboard getting more disgusting than it already is.

AND THAT'S WHY I DON'T HIDE PORN.
Right now it's in My Videos > P. 'P' is for 'Porn'.