Monthly Archives: December 2011

“i’m mac miller. who the f-ck are you?” -mac miller (not me…the rapper)

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I’m a simple pers- …..meh. Fuck it. I’m the farthest thing in from “simple”. I’m a complicated cluster fuck who doesn’t know whether I’m coming or going 99% of the time. It takes a patient person to deal with my bull shit on a daily basis. I always laugh at the people who claim they “love” my personality after reading my Facebook posts or some bull shit like that. It’s a whole different story when you have to tolerate my mood swings and my inability to keep my mouth shut when I should every day. I become a hell of a lot less adorable and witty. For some unknown reason though, I’ve been blessed with people in my life who deal with me, forgive me, and love me through it all. You guys deserve some recognition. Thank you for not punching me in the throat when I’ve deserved it.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to function in society like a normal, sensible human being. And by sometimes, I mean 24 fuckin 7. Every day of my life it’s a challenge to keep my weird, random thoughts safely contained in my brain. When people ask me “Mac, why do you ALWAYS have your ear phones in?”  I usually say “CUZ I JUST LOVE BOPPING TO FUNKY BEATS. YA DIG PLAYA?” (I’ve never actually used this exact phrase…YET). But anyway, for all of you sitting on the edge of your seats wanting to know WHY I have my head phones in all the time, I use them to make everyones lives WAY, WAY, WAY less awkward. If I can block out the conversations going on around me, the chance of me blurting out something obscene, offensive, strange, random, or uncomfortable become significantly less.

For example: One day I was riding on the elevator in the dorms completely music free. I’d lost my head phones, and didn’t think people would appreciate me playing a song that has the chorus of “BITCHES AIN’T SHIT, BUT HOES AND TRICKS” for everyone to hear. So there I was staring at the ceiling hoping that the little girl from The Grudge didn’t crawl out when I noticed the elevator was being held up on the seventh floor by three pretty girls hollering “HURRY UP KEVIN”, “KEVIN. FOR REALZIES? HURRY UP”, “YOU SILLY GOOSE KEVKEV. MAKE YOUR FEETSIES WALK FASTER”. They held the door open and impatiently tapped their Ugg clad feet as they waited for this notorious fella “Kevin”. I crossed my fingers and prayed to the big guy upstairs that Kevin was going to be a Cee Lo Green look-a-like wearing a big fur coat, fuzzy hat, jewels, and of course a cane. (I WAS HOPING KEVIN WAS A PIMP AND THE THREE GIRLS WERE HIS WORKING LADIES IN CASE YOU DIDN’T UNDERSTAND THAT). I was holding my breath while my eyes shined with excitement when I heard the heavy foot steps. Instead of a lace up Gucci shoe appearing in my sight, it was a mud covered work boot. Kevin was a tall, awkward, fuzzy man child. 

Kevin looked like he didn’t give a damn that he was the reason an elevator full of girls were shrieking his name. Kevin looked like he was hungry, and probably a little sleepy. So instead of shutting the fuck up and tolerating the seven floors we had to ride down without saying anything . . . I blurted out

“KEVIN DON’T GIVE A FUCK. BITCHES WAIT FOR KEVIN”

If I would have actually KNOWN these people, we would have had a good chuckle and merrily parted ways once we reached the main floor. But I guess the fact they didn’t have a clue who I was determined that the rest of the ride would take place in awkward silence till they were a distance away from me and could discuss how weird I was. Image