Posts Tagged ‘Rape’

Well this morning we have a very special UCB for all you little kiddies out there in cyber world.  John Mauriello wins this week or I guess it really should have been last week, but I dont really give a fuck cause its my shitty ass blog and I will do what I want to.  Anyway he asked about my new found passion for lurking.  Sure he posted it about a month ago, but it was very appropriate to the situation.  If this is a bit incoherent it is because I have a little bit of the bad medicine in me (rum).

I think first off I will start with the dictionary meaning for lurking and it reads as such: ” to lie or wait in concealment, as a person in ambush; remain in or around a place secretly or furtively”.  If that is what dictionary lurking is let me explain what Lisanti lurking is. Its really grand and super classy.  It also follows the same principles as the above definition.

Lurking is the derogatory name I deem to going out to the bar, club, party or any place for that matter with the sole purpose to pick up a chick and fuck her.  After which you will never see her again and most likely never even have gotten her name.  Don’t you know that is the best way to interact with your fellow humans of the opposite sex, especially ones you should be looking to pair up with and spend the rest of your life with.  At least in the animal kingdom the male just flat out rapes the female and gets it over with.

No, as humans we find ourselves more then superior to our four legged foes.  Instead we use our cunning intelligence to out smart the female using a combination of looks, intelligence and of course alcohol to achieve such desired results.  In all respect the female does the same.  Fuck she is probably a more ruthless predator then a man.  At least men are for the most part obvious about their intentions.  Women on the other hand act all innocent, nice and decent.  Then once you give them your heart they turn around and fuck you over.  That is because every last one of them is nothing more then a filthy stinking whore.  Fellow males out there if you have a girlfriend, fiance,  or wife and think she is happy guess again.  If she has not fucked some guy behind your back yet, well she probably will later.  Especially if you treat her well.

Here is how a lurk works.  I get dressed up in my best cloths and I go out to the bar.  Immediately upon entering I case the place out to see what talent lies with in.  Then I figure out the game plan that will work best for me to prey on some unsuspecting female counter part.  End goal: to get her back to my place where I can hopefully objectify her by fucking the shit out her all night with out ever getting her name or caring to learn a thing about her. If I can get her out of my house in time for a mid day surf  and never see or hear from her again even better.

How is that achieved, by saying and doing whatever it takes to make it happen.  Your kind of a con-artist.  If you have a good wing man then you most likely have an entire repertoire down.  It is like when lions hunt they pick out the weakest zebra in the heard coax it out and then nab it.  When you lurk you find your mark and basically do the same with out the eating alive part, unless your some kind of psycho killer.

Yeah I claim to be a gentleman, but I guess that is a load of bull shit!  I’m just a mother fucking scum bag like every one else out there trying to get mine before it gets me.  Except there is one catch I don’t lurk anymore.  I cant lurk anymore.  As a matter of fact it makes me nauseous even to think about such a thing.  I find that to be a funny fact because I used to thrive on such an act.

No, I think I’m fucking done.  I had my time and it passed.  I don’t want to lurk.  I don’t want to drink.  I don’t want to feel terrible anymore.  I’m tired and I wish my time here would end.  For some reason I cant die.  Believe me I have tried and wished, but here I am still breathing air.  I can not take my own life cause that would be too simple, but why cant I have peace?  Do I not deserve serenity.   I am exasperated with jumping through hoops.  Maybe I will just move up into the pacific northwest in the hills and become a recluse.

I have had everything I could ever have wanted in life already.  Then I lost it.  I don’t want anything else.  Why can’t you see how wrong this life is that you created for us.  I know your not happy. Stop lying to yourself and be what you always told me you were. My faith in humanity was small when I met you and now after it has diminished even more.  Fuck everyone.  I’m over  all of you and your shit.  Stop laughing at me cause its not funny.  It never has been.  While you laugh I cry.  Thats how its been my whole life.

What the fuck more do you want from me?  What more do I have to prove? How much more suffering should I have to endure?

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Its been a while since I have written a blog and that is for a few reasons. One will be addressed in this blog.  The rest I will sum up quickly although may be elaborated in a later blog.  First off since I have stepped off the plane from the East Coast back to California we have just been bombarded with tons of swell (check the surflog which is updated everyday for more on that).  Last week Nick the Kook was out here (check out “Nick the Kook Receives a Hay Maker” for a funny story from his Crazy Chris Adventure Tour) and I started back up at work over at the college.  Then lastly I caught a cold after spending nearly an hour drunkenly searching around the streets of Santa Barbara in the cold for a lost Nick the Kook, who consequently made his way home at 6am, but that is a whole different story all together and one that is not mine to tell.

All these factors went into play to create a very exhausted Chris Lisanti.  So much so that I have been too tired even to think let alone compose a blog at the end of the day.  Even this blog is near painful to write.  Dont say I never did anything for you.   On top of these reasons I have also had my life filled with cat misadventures.

When I returned to Santa Barbara awaiting me in my apartment was a new kitten Ade’s was given for Christmas.  He is an odd looking tabby I affectionately call Mustafa after Will Ferrell’s incompetent assassin character in the Austin Power movies.   I dont know why, the name just had a good ring to it.  Ade’s hates the name, but I have become set on it and as far as Im concerned its his name.  Needless to say Alfie was not very happy about the occurrence thus spending the bulk of his time hissing and growling.

Just when I though the two were beginning to get along Alfie contracted some freak cat strep throat, stopped eating, began coughing and was at deaths door by the end of last week.  Concerned for his well being Ade’s ran him to an emergency vet where $700 later claimed they did not know what was wrong with him and would need another $1000 to run further testing.  For 1700 bucks I could go purchase a robotic cat that would have rocket boosters on it, fly and do chores around the house for me.

I could not just let Alfie wither away and die.  I was mentally preparing to take the situation into my own hands “Old Yeller” style when Ade’s found a vet that specialized in cats and was supposedly inexpensive.  Turns out for only $150 I found out that Alfie had gotten a flu like thing that has actually been going around SB for the last few weeks.  Go figure.  For those of you who are wondering Alfie is doing much better and actually ate all of his dinner tonight.  He still hates Mustafa.

Who needs a parrot on his shoulder when he can have a cat? Mustafa and I bonding.

Alfie and Mustafa trying to be civil.

What Alfie's poor health almost came down to....

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