Wednesday, February 17, 2010

PLFM Says Goodbye

It’s been a great ride folks, and we’d like to thank you for joining us on our little year-long adventure into the bizarre world of highly unstable individuals.

The blog won’t come down as of yet, so if you’re new here, please feel free to peruse some of our highly entertaining entries from the past year.

If you’d like to submit new entries, please email them to the address listed on your right. From this point forward, all submissions will appear back on our original blog WWHM.

Our Twitter will remain the same, and you can still join our WWHM Facebook Fan Club.

If you’d like more information regarding our completely fucked decision to shutdown, you can read it here if you’d like. Believe me, it's boring.

I can’t thank you guys enough for your support over the past year, and I hope you choose to follow us on WWHM despite my drastically reduced posting over the past few months.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Definition: Rebuffed

Years ago, Andrew dated Carla for a short time.

To put it lightly, Andrew was a fucking dick.

A self-confessed drug addict, manipulative liar and unfaithful louse, Andrew unceremoniously dumped Carla for another woman.

Got it so far?

Let’s flash forward six years later.

Through the magnificently intrusive horror we call Facebook, Andrew locates Carla and decides it might be a good time to try and manipulate her emotions once again make amends.

Hence, Andrew carefully dusted off his beloved velvet smoking jacket, lit a fire in the study, and lovingly invited his long hair cat Persicles to nest in his lap as a muse.

Lighting his corn cob pipe, he poured himself a tiny glass of sherry and longingly touched quill pen to parchment, in want of expressing lonely, lost truths.

And there he found it.

His “feelings.”

He pondered what could have been … nay … what should have been.

And then, of course, he composed a vomit-inducing, remarkably self-absorbed ode to his own pain.

Oh, how he hurts.

He wanted to undo what he had once done …

He wanted to right his wrongs …

He wanted to …

Oh, fuck it.

Position your barf bucket.

(click picture for original size)

(It has come to my attention this exchange was stripped from a site called LameBook. Here's their entry:

Thanks MG!)