I was pretty close to saying, "To Hell with it!", wadding up my blog idea and throwing it in the invisible trash can that you'd, um, throw non-existent things in to. That sentence doesn't even make sense, so allow me to point out the fact that I am not an English-oriented blogger. I do not write for a local newspaper or even aspire to publish a book or any of that stupid shit. In fact, I despise writing, and I always dreaded writing assignments. It's still surprising to me that I even considered having a blog in the first place.
The website is www.moldedcupcakes.blogspot.com. I only picked that because I wanted it to do with Cupcakes since that's obviously related to the title of this thing. All of my other options were in use, so I started typing alternate names. Molded Cupcakes, it is. And surprisingly, it fits. Life for me has been very similar to a molded cupcake. For the most part, from the outside things look happy and put-together and attractive. But if you dig deeper, the damned thing is molded. Mold can ruin anything. Like when you really want a sandwich, the bread is a little old, but it looks OK when you quickly check it over, so you make one. It's probably the best freakin' sandwich ever made by your hands. You sit down, take a bite, and it's delicious. You take a few more bites. Best. Sandwich. Ever. Then you look down, halfway through, and see mold on the remaining crust. WTF?! Yep, that's my life.
I really started this so I could curse. I am so tired of trying to be "proper" and "polite" on other networking sites. To be frank, I don't care if you're offended because I say "fuck", "shit", "bitch", or "damn it". I am tired of pussyfooting around the comfort of others. Cursing comes as naturally to me as my heartbeat. I do it most of the time without even thinking about it. It's only after I've gotten that sour-faced look - you know, the one where people look like they've sucked on a lemon, but they're trying desperately to hide it - that I realize I did something socially unacceptable. If the Earth had an asshole, it would be located over the state in which I was raised. If people visited there, they would know that cursing comes naturally, and it's pretty much the staple of our existence. That, and cigarettes and hard liquor. Lucky for me, I can't really afford to smoke or drink in excess, so I don't have either of those habits. I do, however, hope to live out my goal of cursing whenever the hell I want to, and I believe that eventually I will eliminate the guilty or shameful feelings of typing my foul language. Through this "online venting" I might even "find myself" and then maybe I won't be so angry and bitter. Then, maybe, the bad words will stop. Until then, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, damn, bitch, dick. And if reading that makes you uncomfortable, all I can say is, "Suck it up, Cupcake."
