misery is fun, i’m kissing everyone, i’ve got to hold my tongue

So, it’s day nine of no power and go fuck yourself.

Here’s something you probably don’t know, but I have no idea why that should come as a surprise to anyone because you’re a moron and that’s how we all signed your yearbook back in junior high:

Bipolar disorder has practically nothing to do with the sexual preferences of polar bears.

It’s actually a mental disorder, and I know you’re thinking that could still be true about the polar bears, but a polar bear having sex with both male polar bears and female polar bears is probably more a matter of that polar bear’s long-term romantic heterosexual relationship becoming stale and he really just wanted to spice things up and after a few drinks it’s easy to let go of your inhibitions so how dare you judge him for that?

If he just wanted to have sex with other male polar bears, then yes, it’s a mental disorder, but he didn’t so mind your own goddamned business.

Please note that by mental disorder, I don’t mean mental retardation like the what the retardeds here in Baton Rouge that still don’t understand how four-way stops work have, or that Sarah Palin baby. It’s different.

My best friend is a psychologist so I know these things.

Here’s an emergency preparedness tip:

Next hurricane season when you’re stocking up on D cell batteries and bottled water and candles and peanut butter, go ahead and grab a copy or two of Hustler. Because if you don’t have power for nine days or so, and if you’ve come to rely a little too heavily on TGPs as I think it’s safe to say we all kind of have, you may need to go on an old-school Beaver Hunt to get your horny amateur sluts fix.

You’re welcome.