It warms my heart to see so many people finding my website by searching for “Kevin Trudeau is an idiot” and “Kevin Trudeau is a dick” and “Kevin Trudeau the crackpot”. You fuckwits looking for information on getting nautical star tattoos, though. You can fuck right off. Here is some information: tu es stultior quam asinus. Some people got here looking for Paul Dirac. And I didn’t even know who that was. Do I get really smart and ramble about quantum physics when I’m drunk? Because I don’t know shit about physics when I’m sober… Meh. Those of you looking for information about Lee Groban — I haven’t personally seen “The Cure for Insomnia”, but if the title isn’t meant to be ironic, I don’t know what is.
I do know the secret to yousing basic alchemy, but I’m not going to tell you until you learn how to youse a search engine.
Here’s another secret, though. Boys are icky, and they have cooties. And they’re dumb, too. Because they don’t understand that I am always right. So I am absolutely correct in telling them to leave me alone with their chromosomally-deficient gobbledygook, and in then huffily going to bed early because I have a grumpiness-induced headache, right? Or was I just being a bitch? I think the answer to that one is pretty obvious (clearly not), but I’m not very smart.
No one has stolen my car yet, despite my frequent invitations for them to do so. Internets, please explain yourselves. No one is going to buy it, considering that it doesn’t work and that the only parts that don’t need to be replaced are the ones that I just replaced. So I have no alternative but to ask you again, kindly. You know you want it.
My cat’s breath smells like cat food.