Pat Boccuzzi: Nexistentialist

A collection of poetry, prose, findings, jokes, truth and ego.

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Report: Anti-gay pastor 'on the edge of death'

I know I should be the bigger person here and say something semi-compassionate like, “It’s unfortunate that this man, or any man, suffered or will suffer. Nobody should die. I hope he learned a lesson on his death bed, and that the rest of his family changes their awful ways. Blah, Blah, Blah. Don’t combat hate with more hate.” But I’ll let some smug and self-righteous “shame on you” blogger do that to earn click-bait for their 15 minutes of Internet fame. 

That said, I’m willing to be just as angry and hateful as you were, Fred Phelps. People won’t, but I will, and I’ll never feel bad about my hostility or sinking to your level. After all the antipathy you’ve rained down on people just trying to live, not only in the gay community (which is ample enough), but dead American soldiers and their families, innocent victims of mass killings, celebrity OD’ers- I’m so happy you’re dying. Ecstatic even. Get off this planet. I hope Satan is real, a fan of sodomy, and licking his lips at your prospective place in the same hell you weren’t ever ironically aware of belonging in. I award you no points, and may god not have any mercy on your heinous soul

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A few thoughts- as I'm a Patrick, a Bostonian, and a drunkard

A few thoughts: We aren’t Russia. We’re America. We fought wars to secure the equality, freedom, and happy way of life for everyone, not just our own friends or similar minds. America has, and will forever be, a melting pot. Boston was the birthplace of such national ideals. St. Patrick’s Day is a Catholic holiday, yet, above all else, Jesus preached universal love and letting ‘ones without sin cast the first stone.’ Not too long ago, “No Irish Need Apply” signs existed…yet how quickly some members of the Irish community have forgotten what it’s like for their own to be banished. You couldn’t control being Irish, just as you don’t control being gay. True, it’s a privately run parade (as ironic as that phrasing seems), and as such, you can do whatever you want with it, but it embarrasses the entire city, my city, in front of the nation, and makes us seem childish and backwards. So, props to Marty Walsh for trying, and Sam Adams for being great. I know what I’ll be drinking come Monday at 7:01 AM PST.

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Permalink liberateyou:

Lighthouse under the milky way
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Permalink fractaledgalaxies:

Crater Lake


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Permalink interstellarimagery:

“Saturntable” by Nicebleed