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Sunday, September 8, 2013

Atheistjustin, Senior, God Amongst Men, and a Role Model For Children.

This will be my last blogpost on this website.

No, don't cry. This is good news. My adventure of creating a new website entitled "" is well underway. My nipples are as hard as yours are. But, with the Summer's last day passing quickly, I wanted to write one final post, one last hoorah truly telling you all about my Summer.

My summer last year was sprinkled with trips to New York, Parties in which I almost got arrested, and had an encounter with a Demon Woman whom attempted to suck out my soul. This summer, I ate a lot of McDonald's, grew a mustache, and finished watching every episode of the Sopranos.

Clearly, I am moving up in the world.

And since I have had 2 jobs, I have been busy and thus unable to keep up with writing on this piece of shit website. Also, recording my album has been a little bit of a hill in the road. But whatever, because here I am. So fuck you.

Now, as Senior Year approaches, I will be not only drowning in the immense work of College Applications, 2 Jobs, Homework, and Peer Leadership, but I will also be building a website where you fuckers can hear my shitty music.

If you haven't heard my shitty music yet, you can hear the Demo Version of "Junkie" down below.

As I was writing this, I checked my e-mails to find that my 4th grade teacher messaged me about my Senior year. Here are a few quotes:

"you're a faggot.."

...."wish you had died in the womb..."

" are the reason I no longer believe in God."

Whoops sorry, those are actually the e-mails my grandmother wrote me. My 4th Grade teacher wrote this:

"I am thrilled to hear about all that you have accomplished! Remember, this is just the beginning for you! From the very first day that you entered fourth grade, I KNEW you would go far! "

"I cannot wait to read your first of many novels, and I will be so proud to say that I taught you!"

"As senior year begins, I know you will continue to “push” your classmates and teachers forward with your ideas. Get ready to “change the world” Justin Cassidy Hawthorne …be it Rutgers, Pittsburgh, or Penn State,  college and the world is waiting for you!
Please keep in touch!
(Hello to your mom, dad, and grandparents!)"

Excuse me now as I go cry in the corner for roughly 15 minutes.

I feel fucking old, I remember being in that class and goofing off, playing with pencils and my penis while my teacher discussed math. It's nuts that 4th grade was 8 years ago. Like damn. 

Since this will be my last post on here, I think I should leave it off with a series of photos, showing how much I have grown since the foundation of this blog. I know I'm getting sentimental and corny, but look how fucking ugly I was.

And then look at how ugly I still am.

And then try to stop vomiting.

As you go through this final montage of Atheistjustin, take a notice at how my facial hair style and my overall attire change over the years. 

Also, a thank you to the people that have helped make this blog so successful, and a thank you to all of my fans that have read it. I hope you all like the official website as much when it comes out.

Special Thanks to Alice, Becky, the Lerminator, Noah, Joe, The Group, Nicollete, James, Farah, Bell, Sandy, Jesus, Moses, George Washington, My Ex Girlfriend(s), Nicole, Nicole, Nicole, Nicole, Tracey, Sam, Hayley, Arianna, Kathleen, and Mom.

I couldn't have amassed 25,000 page views without you guys.

THE Mike Thomas,


I leave you all with the picture of my album because my new website will have 2 parts: One part for the writing, the adventures of Atheistjustin. The other part will be a place where you can download my music, the music of my friends, buy merchandise, leave comments, make donations, and order Korean Hookers online.

Still working out the technical, and legal kinks of that last one.

And so,, I bid you an ado and say 'go fuck yourself'


So, I had the website for a while and...

Yeah, fuck that shit I'm back on this shitty piece of shit. 

Missed this place. 

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Atheistjustin and The Ratchetmobile

I live in a town with a bunch of rich white Jews and Italians and so everybody drives some nice ass cars around here. You can actually find 17 year old girls crying because their parents bought them the 2013 Mercedes-Benz and not the 2014 one. Yes, yes, that really happened.

And it is because I live in a town with rich, snooty white folk, that I love driving the biggest piece of shit of machinery ever known to man. I have mentioned him previously in past blog posts, but I have never truly gone into depth about this shitty, shitty vehicle.

Firstly, I'll explain that my mom had a 2003 Hyundai Elantra for a while until it was totaled in an accident in which 2 hippies hit us and broke the axels. Thanks a lot you hippie whores. 

When we sold the car for scrap metal, we received a charitable $3,500 from the dooshbags over in midfucknowhere-ville New Jersey. With the small amount of money we had, we went to our friend Will whom owns a garage and gas station in Princeton.

His neighborhood of business is full of both Mexicans and drug dealers, the ideal spot for selling and repairing cars. 

He gave us a few options and since she was in charge of the money, she got to decide which car we were going to spend the next few years driving. God damn do I wish I was the one in charge. 

This car is a 1997 Subaru Outback which looks exactly likes a station wagon but drives like an old man's anus. I'll go into details into the specifications a little later. 

Before I show any pictures of MY actual car, I'd like to let you all know that you can actually SEE the same exact car within the first 8 seconds of the intro of the show The Sopranos.

There it is, right in the middle. The big, blue hunk of shit right there. You have no idea how hard my nipples were when I saw that. First of all, I have a severe addiction to the Sopranos and have stopped spending my Summer trying to get pussy but instead watching this show. I am up to Season 3 and my Italian accent gets a little thicker with every episode.

Coincidentally, I have developed a cigar smoking habit and my chest hair as grown at an exponential rate. I can only imagine this is because of my love for Tony Soprano. RIP James Gandolfini

So now that I've explained to you why I have this car, I think I should go into detail about how much of a piece of whore shit this car is. Okay, first lets start off with some lovely photographs.

It almost looks like it's crying.

Yes, yes, that IS a fucking apple sticker my mom put on the back of the car. And YES, YES, THAT IS MY MOMS FUCKING BLOG ON A FUCKING BUMPERSTICKER ON MY FUCKING RATCHETASSFUCKING CAR. 


 Look at this fucking car. Take a good look and really inhale all the ratchetness of it. First off, you have a lovely rust stain that looks like someone wiped their own shit on the front of it, just to give off that lovely first impression.

Then you have all the dents, scratches, and broken parts thanks to its previous owners.

On a sidenote- I went through the car's glovebox and found a photograph of 2 black children. I am not joking, this really happened to me. My car was formerly driven by a black man/woman with 2 small children. Okie dokie.

For added Ghettofab, I threw some dice in the mirror. I think it says, "I'm not only poor but I think I'm black too!"

Take a close look here and you'll notice that my car has a Tape deck.Yes, this fucking car is so old that it actually can play tapes. I'll bet at least 6 of my readers don't even fucking know what tapes are. 

Now that you've seen the car's lovely interior and exterior, we can all enjoy the specifications of this hunk of shit on wheels.

Now, I'm going to make a little chart with all the 'Good' things about the car and all the 'Shitty' things. You might notice that all the 'Good' things actually just make it more ratchet.

  • Has brakes that only 'sometimes' works
  •  Gets 20 miles to the gallon
  •  Has no horsepower
  • Front right blinker doesn't work and can't be fixed because its too rusty
  •  The car windshield is always dirty, no matter how often you clean it
  •  Starts to smoke and make violent noises if you leave it parked too long with the engine running
  • Leaks oil everywhere 
  •  Looks like a rapist
  • The Air conditioning  is ALWAYS on, even when you don't want it to be 
  • Has rust in places you didn't know rust could form 


  • Has a great Bass system so when you bump your Hilary Duff it sounds amazing
  • Has a gigantic trunk to put dead bodies in
  • Is in the first 8 seconds of every Sopranos episode

I wanted to write more Good things about the car, but came to the realization that there is almost nothing good about this 1997 Subaru Outback.

The truly GREAT thing about this vehicle though, is that when you get in its like a cool gamble of whether or not you're going to make it there alive. 

Between the engine that just might explode at any given moment, to the lack of adequate brakes, your life is almost in extreme peril every time you get behind the wheel.

How this car has passed inspection I have no fucking idea but lets all hope and pray that somewhere along the line I can get a replacement or at least new vehicle before I die.

Also, if anybody would like to BUY this car, I'm starting the bidding at $1.25

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Atheistjustin Goes On An Electric Adventure

Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror with no shirt on and wondered how hard you would have to push your nipples for milk to come out? Neither have I, but I just wanted to put that image in your head.

Because it is exactly that kind of disgust that comes to my mind when I think of all electric festivals whether it be Dayglow, E-Zoo, or any gathering of neon-colored idiots dancing to the same beat for 5 hours.

But I decided to take a ride with my homies to an Electric Adventure and holy fucking shit let me tell you- it was definitely worth it. At the very least, it gave me a great blog to write. And let me share it with you all now. Before we begin, lets all pop a molly and begin sweating because you're gonna have to be 'rolling' pretty hard to truly understand this.

Rolling, by the way, is a new word I learned at EA which means, 'to be under the influence of Molly and/or Ecstasy.'

Back in my day, rolling was referred to as the act of crafting a joint, blunt. or bone. But I guess I'm just old fashioned.

Anyway, lets fucking start this story right where it should- Getting into Six Flags.


First off, lets take a good look at Six Flags as a whole. There's an old man high as shit that's been their creepy mascot for 4 years, there's some cartoon shit walking around, and its supposed to be a 'family place' even though there are more hookers in it than South Brooklyn.

For what fucking reason other than the fact that the place is probably bankrupt as shit would they ever throw this? Welp, I certainly can't think of another reason. But I still found it awkward when the 5 year old Mexican children would stare at the asses of 17 year old white girls.

It's not their fault for looking though, because some of these shorts were so tiny that I could actually see the under ass of the passing by women.

(Insert Photo I took Here)

I was pretty psyched about it.

So we pull into Six Flags, confused as shit. I had no idea of where the fuck to park and I when I asked the Security Officer he was not only a total douschebag but he was a 37 year old man working at Six Flags, what right does he have to cast judgement onto other people?

I bet his own 12 year old kids make fun of him for being a broke-ass high school drop out.

So finally, I park after spending 22 fucking dollars. Yeah that's right, not $20, but $22. Because why the fuck should anything be simple at Six Flags.

My companions and I, the Ravers, had arrived at our new place of extravaganza.

My shirt says, "Be Safe, Use My Breathalizer" and depicts a woman giving oral sex. Now obviously I wouldn't wear this to my Uncle's Wedding but it's fucking Electric Adventure and every girl is dressed like a borderline prostitute.

Of course there has to be a fucking problem if I'm trying to do it. And so, security stopped me and told me my shirt was too graphic because of the implication.

First, I punched him in the throat. Then, I went to his house and burned it down. :)

Well, not really. But I sincerely started flipping a shit. I threw out "fuck yous" and "I paid so much fucking money just for parking here" and when he denied me the opportunity to just wear my shirt inside-out, I was furious and thought the whole thing was shot.

Thankfully, a Sophomore named Aaron helped me out and lent me his sweatshirt when I went back in via a different gate, unguarded by fat 40 year old assholes. Shoutout to all my Sophomore Friends for helping me out- without y'all I'd be in jail for burning down Six Flags.

Finally, I get in. Here's a cute pic of my facial expression at the time.


After that lovely encounter, my companions and I went to the Electric Adventure itself. Well, holy fuck.


I can describe this gathering with a multitude of adjectives that begin with the letter 's'.








Songs sound the fucking same.

So yeah, let me go off on a tangent and just say that these songs were SO diverse. I mean that the same way Hitler would say, "Oh God I LOVE the movie Schindler's List."

If you listen to EDM, or House Music, or Dubstep, you're probably the inadequate character for reading or transcribing my literary-online art. If you don't know what I just said, its because you fucking listen to EDM, or House Music, or Dubstep.

But going into this 'pit' or 'center for catching syphilis and AIDS' was absolutely horrifying. There were women that were terrifically obese. It was to the point where their bandos looked like my bedsheets. They resembled the animals in the wild safari.

However, unlike the animals in the safari, the obese women did not like when I asked them, "does it want some pop-corn? Awww look at the little thing eating popcorn. That's a good little animal aww."

Look at these soulless whores. I bet your parents are all so proud.


After a little while of this intoxicating barbarism, the Ravers and I went to get a little grub. Since I had no money, one of my friends was kind enough to offer me food and bought me a water. After taking a look at his food, though, I had to refuse or otherwise induce vomiting.

First off, Six Flags food is so fucking overpriced that it makes me angry. The chicken was $10.99 and for that much money the chicken better have been cooked by Jesus Christ himself or at least come from a real chicken.

Yeah, that looks fucking appetizing. 

However, we learned we were in the 'VIP Section' and could only imagine how horrible the non-VIP section must have been.

On our way out, it smelled like the rotting corpse of a 7 year old dead animal and we could only hope that what we just ate wasn't from wherever the smell had been birthed.

And so we went back into the pit of despair and anguish.

This time, my hopes were a lot lower and I was hoping we could go home soon. But surprisingly, it was this second journey that really changed the whole thing.

For some reason, there was a different DJ whom I believes refers to himself as 'Blend' but since he's a tiny little Mexican man, I'd much prefer to call him DJ Lil Taco.

So this DJ Lil Taco was playing and for some reason there were more songs that I felt like actually dancing to. And there were more times when the beat would 'drop' which leaves a nice .5 seconds of silence.

Its at those times I liked to scream out, 'HOUSE MUSIC SAVED MY LIFE' or 'I LOVE COCAINE' and every once in a while, 'I LOVE JESUS!'

It was fun, and for some reason the staff and security were a lot of fun too.

First I'll show you Griffin. He was a gigantic black man who's heart must be as big as his biceps because he let me take a picture with him.

I cannot illustrate to you my love for this gigantic black man.

We danced together, shared some cute moments, but there was one man who truly made my day. One man that I can truly call 'My Hero.'

His name was Joseph and he was a First Aid respondent. For whatever reason, this man really fucking loved his job. I mean, most of the staff were just kind of there, looking at the crowd. But oh no, not for Joseph. This guy danced, sprayed water on people, sang along, and got his shit done.

But now here comes the truly best part of the tale.


So, I'd rather not make my blog nor this blog post too consumed with my personal drama but we'll say that my ex-girlfriend and her friends were at Electric Adventure. This didn't surprise me because she had been to the one last year.

It was totally awkward at first because we both knew each other were there but I did my best to ignore her and all her friends. I avoided eye contact and instead kept staring at the gigantic security guard full of muscle. I turned my back on them and just did what I do best- Make a fucking ass out of myself.

Something in the air, whether it be the Molly, the marijuana, the smell of alcohol, or the terrible fucking music made me just wanna dance.

I do this often at parties, but since it was EA I knew I had to get shit taken care of.

There was a spot in front of where my Ex and her crew had established, which had plenty of open space and air. And it was right next to this man Joseph.

I proceeded to dance hysterically, swinging my body in ways no man ever should. I even twerked. And  it was around this point that people started to notice, enjoy, and admire me. There were videos taken, people staring, and the question that was repeated about 5,098 times that day, "how much molly did he take?"

I don't fuck with molly people, I have to drive everybody's drunk ass home.

Some gorgeous girl I work with even kissed me on the cheek leaving a perfect kiss mark with her lipstick. It was the 2nd greatest moment of the day.

It was here that I could feel my Ex staring right at the base of my spine. I'm sure it was at this point that she wondered how she could snap it in half. And so, she too became louder and danced more and even came a little bit closer to me.

Now, I'm not a psychologist, but I can conclude that this bitch is Crazy. And now, I don't mean that to be offensive or to degrade her in anyway, because she really was/is a good person. But most women are wacked out of their fucking minds and needless to say, she is crazy. Even my own mother, someone who is bat-shit-nuts, will exclaim to this day that she is crazy.

And so, I think that since she saw how much attention I was getting, she wanted me to give her a little bit of my attention.

Now I continued to ignore her existence but once Joseph was spraying water on people, I had him pour some on me and when I screamed, 'MAMA I MADE IT' she and I made eye-contact and I could no longer deny that I saw her there.

A little time went on and I'm not sure exactly what happened, but in some way/shape/form my Ex had done something just a little too far. And so, while she was in mid-dance, Joseph poured a bottle of water right on her unsuspecting head.

I fucking died. it was the greatest moment of the day. She reacted in a salty manner and proceeded to throw her water bottle at me, as if I somehow had anything to do with it.

I told Joseph and some shirtless guy behind me that it was indeed my Ex whom was splashed with the water. It was a victorious moment, a memory I will share and continue to rub my nipples with.

And now, if my Ex is reading this, I would just like to say that I am regretful that our relationship turned out the way it did because I truly wish we could be friends and at the very least get along.

And thats enough about that,


Call me crazy, but standing around thousands of sweaty, high, drunk people listening to music I hate for 5 hours kind of started to bother me. I was getting bored and even began yawning. Yeah, there were some stage effects where they would blow out smoke (which looked like poisonous gas) or have some sort of light effects, but after awhile it was just too fucking repetitive.

So we left around 10:30 only to realize that McD's was on our way back.

It was here that I was able to take some Post EA pictures with myself and the Ravers.

I enjoyed some McD's coffee which was actually pretty stellar for only 1 dollar.

By 11:30 I had dropped everybody at home and was, myself, home at last.

That shower was the best I have ever taken and the homemade bacon, egg, and cheese bagel was unbelievably good after not eating for 8 hours.

On a more serious note, I had some time to think about my grandfather whom has been admitted to the hospital after suffering a stroke and is now without operating machines.

He's on his way to passing on to whatever it is out there after life and thinking about him made me put this whole event into perspective.

Yeah, it was hell and it was stupid and it was crazy and there were people there I hated and people there I loved, but that's life. It's a constant Adventure and whether it may be electric and turnt up with Molly or not, it's still something I'm glad to be enjoying every day, with every blog post.

And so now, I will leave you all with some photos I took that I couldn't quite fit into my story without this getting too long.

My friend Kelso the Clown getting raped by a strange looking man whose eyes pierce into your soul.

I still have no idea who this guy is and I probably never will.

Who IS Atheistjustin?

My photo
I am Never Wrong. I am Awesome. I do NOT eat ass.