porkjerky plog
Retards Say The Darndest Things
You do realize that the ‘www’ in front of the url your blog on means ‘world wide web’ right? Your story doesn’t have to be that way. You do realize that you control that fact that I am able to read and use your own writings to mock you right? They make books you can physically write in, detail your thoughts and feelings in and lock up and hide in your dildo drawer so some random fuck who takes daily pictures of his shit won’t stumble on to it and see how much of a fucking retard you are and how horrible you screwed up your life. Right?
You realize me finding out about your shitty story is through explicit actions you have taken.
I honestly don’t know if you do.
He told me he only had sex with me because I guilted him into it and that he was lonely.
Like you, i am the happiest i have been since i became agoraphobic 11 years ago
Mostly, the year after my divorce has been about five-days-straight of doing whatever the fuck I want. Five days straight of drinking box wine. Five days straight of smoking weed. Five days straight of obsessive ebay shopping. Five days straight of smoking cigarettes in backyards and ttext messaging whomever I want until 12am at night and going to Taco Bell at 1am and crashing lame backyard parties.
process of my divorce heartache
We met when I was 15 and he was 18/19, and I found out was pregnant on my 16th birthday. Wonderful Sweet 16, right?! In my last month of pregnancy, F traveled out of state to sell some weed (a winner, yeah?) and had gotten into trouble with the law for about anything the tiny little government in Kansas could charge him with.
Left me with a black eye, bloody nose and swollen face, BUT he never hit me with a closed fist
I really don’t think a lot of people realize that when they publish something to the web for the world to see it, that the world will see it. And the world generally sucks. For one, there’s people like me in it.
Blogs give people exactly what I love them to have—enough rope for them to shoot themselves in the foot.
Post-Marital Sex
In a couple manners of speaking, it’s hump day on divorce blog appreciation week at the porkjerky.com plog. Let’s see what kind of stories we can find about people not letting something as stupid as their divorce get in their way of fucking someone they couldn’t wait to get rid of.
I’m pretty sure, unlike them with their selves and the sex act itself, I won’t be disappointed.
And I wasn’t. In just 15 minutes of googling, here’s the blogs I found:
http://www.evanmarckatz.com/blog/i-still-sleep-with-my-cheating-ex-husband/
http://www.blogher.com/recession-and-divorce-living-your-ex-make-ends-meet
And then it seems everyone and their horny ex-wife wants to weigh in on the subject, in a theoretical, this didn’t really happen to me way:
http://divorce-rebuildlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/divorce-avoid-sex-with-ex.html
http://divorce.gadget-info.com/dating-dos-and-donts-after-the-divorce-2/
http://divorcesupport.about.com/od/sexafterdivorce/f/sex_with_ex.htm
http://divorce-r-us.blogspot.com/2007/01/divorce-avoid-sex-with-ex.html
I say, don’t follow the advice you find on the internet, when it comes to fucking a person you could no longer stand to be married to, I say follow your heart and/or genitals. After all, a divorce decree is just a stupid piece of paper that dissolves another stupid piece of paper. When its true lust involving someone you hate, it shouldn’t matter the legal formalities of your relationship when you pity fuck each other.
The Watching Paint Dry Divorce Blog
It’s still divorce blog week on the porkjery.com plog. That’s right, take some time out of your busy day to look at pictures of my shit, be amused by the general idea that tons of people actually want to share their divorce with the world and be endlessly entertained by the specific stories these dipshits are telling.
Go on, treat yourself. You deserve it.
Now, don’t go thinking all divorces are action-packed with Myspace stalking, hornymatches.com entrapments, physical abuse and fat ugly, stupid wives reaching enlightment by no longer making their husbands’ beds. No, no no. Some divorce blogs are more bloglike than divorcelike.
Enter the anatomy of my divorce blog. 3 posts of I-wish-I-hadn’t-gotten-married-and-instead-went-to-college-so-I-could-be-a-writer drivel. Oh my fuck its tedious. And vapid. No interesting stories, nothing humorous, nothing emotionally inspiring in any direction and for how well structured, properly grammarized and practiced the writer is, it’s so horrible written.
I really think this blog is just passages from Snoopy’s novel:
He showed me the letter. Typewritten. Addressed to him at his place of employment. An anonymous letter. Describing the night he went out with his friends from work while I remained home with the kids. A letter in which he was chastised for having an affair with his assistant.
Look at that passage, it has potential. There’s probably a good story behind it. I’m willing to put up with your pretentious writing style to find out more about this affair. But no. That’s it. Nothing follows it even remotely intriguing. She doesn’t go bat-shit crazy and cut the crotch out of all his pants, they don’t have a huge verbose fight, she doesn’t revenge fuck him. Nothing.
Words don’t make a good story, a good story makes a good story. And while this blog is long on words, its short on story. Three posts, tons of words, but no story to be found. This is the most boring divorce ever. It’s like some people don’t realize that the sole purpose they were put on Earth was to entertain me.
Do You Like Pina Coladas?
Fuck you and your intellectual uppitiness. I unapologetically and without embarrassment love reality TV shows. Double fuck you to all you pretentious fucks who claim to not watch TV at all. I even love the obviously scripted reality shows—I can suspend my disbelief like nobody’s business.
There’s something about knowing that people’s actions don’t exist in a vacuum on a Hollywood sound stage. That the actions of others that I entertain myself with have occurred within the context of someone’s life and will follow them is awesome.
That is why I absolutely love divorce blogs. For some god damn reason, the people involved couldn’t keep their embarrassing, crazy, retarded life events to themselves, they just had to share it with the world. God bless them. All the stories people tell on them didn’t get drafted in a writer’s room, story-boarded by a director and rehearsed by actors. They actually occurred to real people and have real life ramifications.
Michelle’s Divorce Blog starts in December 2007; her story of how she met her ex-husband starts in late 1998. They were dating in February 1999, living together by March of that year, married in October 2000 and tried to get pregnant immediately. Like a lot of people, god thought that wasn’t a great idea. Like a lot of people, they told god he could suck their dicks and had fertility treatments that eventually lead to her giving birth November of 2002. She claims trouble started in November 2003 eventually leading to their divorce in June 2008.
That was her first kid, his 4th. It was her first failed marriage, his 3rd. He’s currently married to wife #4, while engaged to be married to wife #5, who he took back only after she went to rehab. That one’s gonna make it, though. I can feel it. Nobody can stop true love.
That blog is chock full of awesomeness. The time she stalked the chick he was trying to bang via MySpace, the updates of him being a dead beat dad, how her Match.com relationship didn’t pan out, the time she left him because he bailed some skank out of jail on Christmas eve.
The absolute best is when she found out that he signed up for hornymatches.com trying to get some pussy. So, she signed up herself and contacted him. She essentially says that she does like Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain, that she’s the lady he’s looked for, he should write to her and escape. He takes the bait, they decided to meet up at a hotel where she busts him and kicks him out…
…Only to take him back. God I love real life, especially when it’s ripped from a Rupert Holmes song.
The Blogs No One Wanted Custody Of
In honor of my parents’ 40th wedding anniversary (no fucking shit—unfortunately this means I won’t be able to use the I-was-from-a-broken-so-go-easy-on-me speech when they are sentencing me), I am doing something they should have done a long time ago: Celebrate divorce.
In my quest to find an award worthy shitty blog about divorce, I stumbled onto a gold mine. These are up there with infertility blogs and memorial blogs.
Today I celebrate the one post wonders. Blogs about someone’s divorce that garnered enough attention they started a blog and then abandoned it like their spouse did them.
Wake Me Up When My Divorce is Final
I like to think all the people who started these one-post wonder blogs stopped blogging because they soon found someone to make them complete again. They dusted themselves off, hummed a few bars of I Will Survive, got back on their feet, found true love this time and is being domestically abused as we speak.
Of course that’s probably just wishful thinking. But still, that’s what I like to think caused those blogs to end so abruptly. Call me a romantic.
Revenge, A Dish Best Served After 26 Of Suffering
Today’s winner of the Porkjerky.com Periodical Shitty Blog Award reminds me of that time I was using the pedestrian bridge to cross over the interstate on my bike and the cops had it and the interstate closed because some nutbag was threatening to commit suicide off of it. I did what any rational person who was being inconvenienced would—I yelled ‘Jump already you stupid motherfucking pussy faggot. Jesus fucking christ. Asshole.’.
If that piece of shit really wanted to kill himself he would have silently taken a bottle of sleeping pills and laid in bed. Or opened a vein in a warm bath in the privacy of his own home. Or spackled his bedroom with his brains. Or any of the thousands of ways to kill yourself without affecting the rest of us who don’t give a shit about how insignificant you think your insignificant life is.
When you do stupid shit in a public forum you are implicitly asking for public comment. Guess what you exhibitionist dumbfucks; I will explicitly oblige you.
My Divorce Drama Blog, is the product of just such an exhibitionist dumbfuck. Its written by some oblivious cunt who wants pity for her choosing to be pitiful. I truly believe some people are only happy when they are unhappy. It gives them a chance to not accept responsibility for their lives and be a victim of circumstances well within their control.
The first line of her first post is one of my favorite ideas mankind has invented. I call it single-motheritis: the ability of a victim to become empowered by choosing to be a victim. To wit she says:
I’ve been looking forward to getting a divorce for a long time…. 26 years to be exact.
Fuck you, you self-righteous martyr whore. There’s three kinds of people in this world. When they reach for a hot pot on the stove and burn themselves, they either:
A. Go, ‘Owww, that hurts like a motherfucker’, quickly let go and learn not to do that again.
B. Go, ‘Owww, that hurt like a mother fucker’, quickly let go and decide to do it again.
C. Say, nothing, leave their hand there for 26 years and then go ‘Owww, that’s hurt like a motherfucker for 26 years. Boy am I a genius for removing it now. I should start a blog and let the world know how awesome I am.‘
The blogs greatness doesn’t end there. If you love other people’s pain even a quarter as much as I do, its an excellent read. Let me highlight the other great parts:
- She filed for divorce on him…when she thought he might file divorce on her.
- Got a restraining order against her husband…and kept living with him.
- Felt so empowerd and liberated from him…when she stopped changing his bed sheets…3 months after she filed for divorce.
And next to her first post were she rubbed it in his face about silently living in misery but wanting a divorce for 26 years, the post that brought the biggest smile to my face was the one where she posted the lyrics to ‘I Will Survive’. Classic single-motheritis.
Boy, she showed him. And for doing so, she’s this random time interval’s winner of the Porkjerky.com Random Time Interval Shitty Blog Award.
The Reverse Singularity
What percentage of the population do you think, has worn a concert T-shirt bought at said concert?
My initial thought was the low to mid teens: 1 in 8, 1 in 6 people, right? But then I remembered something very insightful I once heard:
OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!! I JUST LOVE DAVID COOK. OH I AM SO GLAD I VOTED FOR HIM SO MANY TIMES AND HE WON. WOOOOOOOO DAVID COOK.
Very insightful indeed.
Obviously, I had made significant miscalculations in determining humanity’s coefficient of uncreativitiness. I do that a lot. Every time I see someone still wearing Zubaz I remember how I miscalculated that fad. Every time I see a woman my age with a rock hard, hair sprayed, poofy pompadour and t-shirt sleeves meticulously rolled up–just as she has done every year since she was a high school sophomore in the early nineties–makes me reminisce about how cool I never was. As pessimistic as I am, I still give humanity too much credit.
A lot of things make me remember that I am hardly ever in the lowest common denominator and should never underestimate the obliviousness of people who are. Doesn’t make me mad, it’s just entertaining. There’s just something about people who claim to be expressing their individuality by doing something that everyone else does that makes my asshole hungry for loving.
I got bored and decided to see how many blogs had the word blogging in them. In the last year; 50,000 to 75,000 tops right? Maybe 100,000. Nope. Off by a factor of 264.
In the last year 26,417,344 blog posts had the term ‘blogging’ in them. Today alone, which hasn’t ended by the way, there have been 1,741,547 blog posts with the term blogging in them.
Here are a few of the gems the world has been blessed with blogging in them:
Each one a must read. Morpheus was wrong, we don’t have to worry about the singularity. We are never going to reach a moment where artificial intelligence is able to build upon itself creating an omnipotent, sentient being that will enslave humanity. That would require us being collectively smart and creative enough to design and build that first iteration of intelligent machines.
Yeah, that’s not a fear we need to have. What we need to fear is the reverse singularity, the uningularity, the nullarity. That’s when we are going to effectively be enslaved by our own unintellgence which is regressing. Our de-evolution is rapidly occurring. Human creativity and intelligence has been contracting for some time it won’t be long until it reaches zero and we are all wallowing in both our figurative and our literal shit.
Crapnormous
Jesus, Mary, Joseph and Mohammed. That turd’s so huge I don’t know if its coming or going. A good 4 inches of it is dry docked up against the bowl. And god knows how many inches are snaked through the interior plumbing of my house.
It took some creative lighting, a step stool, someone to spot me and a steady hand, but I was able to get a camera angle on it that shows its massiveocityness. If you look closely, down near the hole you can see the entire continuous turd. Well, actually, no you can’t. You can see the entire continuous turd that is visible. Its so long it disappears into the shadows of my shitter, ending somewhere near the coffee table in the middle of the room that backs up to that bathroom.
I’ve had huge turds before. I’ve had turds lodge themselves through the p-trap of my toilet before. Never have I had one do both. Its like the perfect storm of shitting.
Is there a crapping hall of fame? I’m a shoe-in on the first ballot as soon as I hang up anus.
What A Load Of Tits
You know what I am tired of being made aware of? Breast cancer. Lord almighty, fuck.
We get it. Breast cancer’s bad. Its caused more deaths than everything else combined. 13 out of 10 women over the age of 40 will die from it at least once in their lives. We need to give a ton of money to breast cancer charities so they can race to a cure—even though a ton (radiation therapy, mastectomies, chemotherapy, hormone therapy, biological therapy) already exist.
Give it a rest Susan G. Komen—we’re onto your scam. I thought hunger organizations were pieces of shit feeding off other people’s altruism; they have nothing on this bitch. They’ve been at it for like 25 years—shouldn’t breast cancer be gone by now?
And how much longer are you going to buy into this scam? End it now. I just put up a new resignation letter so you can quit your job and devote more time to this cause. Its time we started making people aware about breast cancer awareness and how it’s a fucking billion dollar industry.
Fuck Empathy
What’s your blood type? Because I think I need an empathy transfusion. Maybe the gland in my body responsible for producing and regulating it is out of whack.
Perhaps those years of violent sodomy at the abusive orphanage I was raised did effect me. Or maybe, just maybe, hear me out on this, maybe its like being fat and I have the callous prick gene in my DNA.
Hopefully they will devise a test for that and genetically engineer it out out of future generations. Or at least develop an empathy pill that we can put children on for the rest of their lives.
Until then, look what I found: Memorial blogs. I’m like a fat chick in mud.
Mike Simanoff Memorial Blog
Unsure how he died, but his employer made big donation in his honor to a schizophrenic/sepression research group—not a good sign.
Blog In Memory Of Maria Chapman
Got run over by an older sibling in her own driveway. Its not as horrible as you think though–she was adopted.
Remembering Matt Peterson Blog
Killed by a sheriff deputy who swerved into the wrong lane.
Michael Jackson Memorial Blog
Emotionally, as a nation, losing a pedophile is so, so hard and having a blog (or ten thousand) helps everyone deal with it.
David Honigsberg Memorial
Another rabbi sent to heave to spend eternity eating bacon with Jesus.
W.C. Kelsey Memorial Blog
Even in death old people are as boring as shit
Montague Ullman’s Memorial Blog
This memorial consists of 1 post and 20 total words. Blogspot Memorials: For when you kind of care enough to feign missing someone.
Here’s the best part of this. And by this, I mean this post you are reading now. When you google those peoples names, not only will you get those blogs in the results, you will also now get this page. So, their memory will not only be a shitty memorial blog, but now it will include some random asshole’s shitty blog on the internet calling those shitty memorial blogs ‘shitty memorial blogs’ along with pics of his own shit.
