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Monday, August 07, 2006 

The asshole motherfucker gods

I try not to link too many of Cary Tennis' Salon advice columns, because (a) I am a huge fan of his work, and I would be tempted to give pretty much each one a spot and (b) I know you have to watch an ad first, what a pain, blah blah blah. But today's is just too good, and reminds me more than a little of John Darnielle for some reason.

Here's an excerpt, but obviously watch the ad and read the whole goddamn thing:

So what do we do? We toughen up. We quit playing patty-cake patty-cake give a dog a bone, we season ourselves, we take the bit in our teeth, we flog ourselves with birch branches, we bitch and moan and howl at the moon and give up our illusions of a soft loving god who hears our prayers and answers them. We board the windows and doors. We wise up and face the fuckers, we quit lying down and taking it, we let go of our prettiness, we prepare for the battle ahead. We say never again will we be caught off guard, never again will we pretend, never again will we believe that this thing we have created cannot be poisoned in an instant by a shit-head god on a bender, fucking up our paradise for his shallow and grim amusement.

someone needs to send that to this girl

indeed. I'm not sure how one goes on after something like that happens.

But one does, regardless. Hopefully.

Yikes that's like 20 minutes from where I grew up. I use to know a couple Rowes too... gar.

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Ian Mathers is a freelance writer whose work has appeared in Stylus, the Village Voice, Resident Advisor, PopMatters, and elsewhere. He does stuff and it magically appears here.

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