I hate you~
“Dear Nestor,
I hate you.
Love, The World.”
“Dear World,
Choke on my boner.
Nestor”
You sycophantic parasites are symbiotically feeding off each others’ shit and it makes me fucking sick to exist cheek-by-jowl with shit like you. You make travesties and horrors the evening news and force us to gargle it all down like some minty fresh cocktail- I can remember throwing up, over and over again when I was seven years old, after watching the Challenger space shuttle blow up, over and over and over again on the nightly news. How many fucking weeks did we shovel gob after gob of fucking Columbine, watching the fucking kids jump out of fucking windows because they were so fucking terrified? 9-11?
Fuck you, I hate you, I hate what you’re doing to the human race. You vote in preassembled and mass-produced politicians, it doesn’t matter if it’s democrat or republican or even the Flying Purple People Eater Party, you’re still getting your ass ripped while the waxy, chemical smell of vaseline seeps from his plastic lips and glad-hand. You use stupid fucking slogans like “Vote for a Better Tomorrow” and have the temerity to bitch about today, when you should be doing something now. Tweenty fucking years ago you told my bright-eyed and hope-filled generation that we would control the world and we had a duty to fix it from the previous generations’ fuckups, but we’re just as fucking powerless now as you were then because you dumbfuck cockshits keep doing the same shit, day in and day out. How many times did you vote for TV, unreal reality shows that show just how fucking depraved and disgusting humanity is, when your own shit lives were equally fucking shambles? Voting for plastic breasts and vicadin, child-molesting popstars and ritalin, voting for Dr. Phil and Montel, instead of fucking solving the goddamn problems.
What sickens me more than you are your vacant eyed and slack-jawed children, pumped full of meds and told they’ve got a bunch of (perfectly solvable) mental problems, justifying shitting all over the place when they don’t get what they want. When Little Johnny fucking shoots up a goddamn store, instead of saying “Where were the fucking parents” we yell “Violent Video games are the cause!” No. It’s because Mommy and Daddy were jerking themselves off to another shitty fucking episode of Survivor and couldn’t be fucking arsed to tell Little Johnny that fucking little girls in the eyesockets is fucking wrong. Take fucking responsibility! Take fucking ownership! I hate you all and you’re a sickening disease. Seriously. No lies, no bullshit, no cutting corners: Kill yourselves.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
There are three kinds of people in this world: victims, survivors, and heroes.
Victims are the collective ashtrays and toilets that get shit on. worthless wastes that’d be better off getting killed off by predators. The ones that can’t cope with reality.
Survivors are people who’ve learned to keep their heads down when the shit of the world starts to fly. their creed, motto, slogan and catchphrase is “get through the day”. Better then the semicatatonic ands mildly concussed victims, but not by much, in my opinion. They’re “armchair politicians”, sports coaches, and whatever, sitting on the sidelines and bitching about everything. They bitch that they can’t take calls because there’s no cellphones and then they bitch because cellphones are starting to cause more and more auto accidents every year, they take stands on stupid shit like how chemicals used to treat boats kill snails but can’t figure out why their ten year old daughter is a alcoholic prostitute. they bitch that their food prices are going up and they bitch about genetic modificaztions that increse food production and they bitch that things aren’t fucking perfect and they never lift a fucking finger to do shit.
Heroes take what they fucking want. They grip the world and squeeze the juice down their throats. They’re the fucking players that get up there and fucking raise the bat and drive one out of the fucking park. They stand up and say “no.” without fear of recrimination. They take stands on shit that fucking matters. They get up on national TV and say “You’re a dumbass.” When they work, they work hard. when they play, they play hard. when they rock, they rock hard. They destroy/ climb over/ walk on things that stand between them and their goal, and accept no substitutes. They know when to prefer quantity over quality, and vice versa. They make informed, educated descisions. They don’t fuck around.
Decide for yourself here and now where you stand on the fucking food chain. Are you some goddamned limp-wristed KY-jelly squirting rubberbacked bedpan cleaning Flaccidor, or are you a goddamed Platinum Plated Pecker, firing wad after burning wad of Justice into the eyes and faces of the damned, screaming I GUARANTEE IT!
…christ. I think I’m gonna puke again.