k, so, if you didnt already know, my real name is "john", "johnny" or "fuckwit" (depending on who you ask), but people usually call me naps. naps, nappy, nappizzle or some stupid variation thereof. straight up, you can ask my mates. theyll both vouch for my story. its actually short for nappyface. and people always ask me "why do they call you nappyface?" and i always tell them "nah, its dumb story".
"oh, but youre a funny guy, just make it a interesting!"
"yeah, well, youre a dick and an asshole. go fuck yourself."
and there you have it, the reason they call me nappyface - 'cause i have such a fuckin potty mouth.
but seeing as my life is a movie and you all just play supporting roles in this action comedy epic, its only fitting that this 'DVD extra' of a blog post offers alternate endings. other possible reasons for nappyface being my leading alias include:
-because of my youthful appearance. like young MC, kid'n'play, shyheim the rugged child and other assorted hiphoppers of yesteryear, my name will be outdated by the time you finish reading this sentence. that alone gives me more street cred than all of 50 cents nine bullets comined. and you can also find me in da club.
-because nappy is another word for natty (natural), and i hardly ever shave. and hence nappyface. it scares off all the squares and is a good excuse to be the most sociopathic hippie since manson. now i just gotta get onto that revolution we all need.
-because, if you havent guessed by now, i talk a whole load of shit and suckas always believe it. for all you know, the name coulda simply came about from one night when i was 15, drunk off kentucky gold and a few of the boys thought it would be funny to call me a competely meaningless and non-sensical name, that just kinda stuck ever since. is that the true origin? or is nappyface just talking shit again? ha, ill never tell. fools.
closure is for cry babies and girly men, so go to a massage parlour if you want a happy ending. im the goddamn nappyface, and i offer no apologies nor any explanations. deal with it.
in case you didnt know, i was made recently made redundant at my place of emplyoment. apparently, prepared foods australia some nameless company doesnt have room in the budget for the walking personification of awesome. whatever, your loss, dickwads.
in any case, this leaves me without regular steady income, meaning i have to exaggerate my credentials, job exeperience and general life achievements in the hopes of ever getting back on the train. and even though lying to people is something that i am not only fuckin bitchin at --its something i actually enjoy-- being forced to do it just takes all the fun out of it. even the easiest of cockhungry sluts can still be raped. (metaphorically speaking, that is - no homo).
so just in case you were wondering, here are the top 4 reasons why searching for a job sucks balls:
1) what youre actually good at is never what you have qualifications /experience in. as previously mentioned, im pretty ace at tellin bullshit. but without a degree in law or four years working for a PR firm under my belt, being an excellent liar just comes across as, i dunno, "untrustworthy" or something. fuck knows why.
2) you work just as hard as actually having a job, but you dont get shit for it.
theres a reason why get-rich-quick-schemes are more popular than charity work and why people dont get paid in 'love', and thats because working sucks. filling out application forms and ringing up potential workplaces is a full time job in itself, and not being paid for all the hard work you have to do feels like the world drawing on your face when youre already covered in vomit and too drunk to move. way to kick a man while hes down, capatalism.
3) the silent moment of pity you get when someone hears that youre unemployed.
fuck you. having a weekly paycheck doesnt make you better than me. if anything, not being a white collar slave gives me more freedom, not only from financial dependence but also relatively more ease to simply drop off the grid at a moments notice. so there. (PS, can i borrow $20? you know im good for it...)
4) having money followed by suddenly having no money is like drowning. in poverty.
actually, its more like breaking your hand - being able to do everyday shit just goes unnoticed, until, y'know, you cant do shit anymore. 'cause when youre used to drinking caviar champagne, snorting pure columbian coke off supermodels asses and lighting cigars with burning $100 bills... going back to cask wine, stolen ritalin and cigarettes rolled from butts just doesnt cut it anymore. welcome to perpetual disappointment.
so there you have it. a few reasons good enough for you to pay me for improving your life by merely existing.
and yes, i accept whiskey as payment.
recently, people have been saying stoopid shit to me like "your blog has so much anger", "why are you so angry?" and "anger is only one letter short of danger". to those people, i say this: fuck up or ill kick you in the ribs.
i also wanna say, just for the record, that im not an angry person at all. really, im not. those cocksuckers had those broken noses coming. this world of ours has stupidity at every turn of the head, and all i do is dispense the appropriate dose of justice. think of me as robin hood, but without the gay tights.
besides, theres heapsa things that make me happy. fuckin heeeeaps. if i had a cherry bomb for every little thing i liked, id have enough plastic explosives to make you evacuate the southern hemisphere.
for example, i find people hurting themselves absolutely hilarious. shit cracks me up to no end. youtube search "guy falling down stairs" if you wanna experience the glory for yourself. personally, i could watch idiots being punished by their own stupidity all freakin day, and giggle my ass off at every last clip. shit, americas funniest home videos would be hands down the greatest TV show ever if the bullshit 'cute' videos didnt win it every single time. a puppy with a phone is never funnier than a fat bitch flying off a motorbike. thats just the fuckin truth. show me a man that would pick the puppy and ill show you a sorry ass son of a bitch that resigned his testicles long ago.
laughter only permissible with vagina.
but know what does kick arse? an orangutan that spear fishes. or an elephant that paints self portaits. thats buzzy as hell. imagine aliens coming to earth and seeing that shit directly after a blooper reel. humans would be mistaken for a lower lifeform, and used for meat. or carbon. or whatever the fuck aliens want.
i appreciate many of the smaller things in life. like, say, the reassuring comfort of a watertight alibi. or the gentle smell of smoke from the local police station burning down. its these little pleasures that really make life worth living.
my point is that i dont have an anger management issue, i have a keepin it real issue. which isnt even an issue at all, its just keepin it real. ugly people dont blame the mirror for them being ugly; they partially blame a negligent god, but more importantly, they blame themselves. so stay off my case about reporting the facts from planet dumbass, or ill really get angry. and you wont like me when im angry.
this is me when the all blacks lost to france in the world cup
