Excuse me, good sir, what have you proclaimed is beyond my understanding.

I say, what the devil did you just audaciously proclaim about my well-being, you trollop? I shall inform you that I have graduated top of my class at the Gentleman’s Academy of Sophisticated Persons, and have been involved in numerous endeavors with the Ruffians down the street from my abode; might I also add that I’ve accumulated over 300 pieces of antique furniture? I am educated in fine dining and high class catering and I’m the top Victorian era furniture appraiser in the entire high society. You are naught to me but a simple, uncouth brute. I shall embarrass the dickens out of you with class the likes of which has never been witnessed before on this humble planet, I solemnly promise. You assume you can disrespect my image on the internet? Think again, savage. As we speak I am contacting my diligent secretary to arrange a brunch together at the finest coffee shop in town, so you had better prepare a fetching enough outfit to compete with my immaculate attire, barbarian. The brunch that sends you packing back to the countryside. You are inevitably defeated, heathen. I can be booked at any appointment, any hour, and I can educate you in over seven hundred cultures, and that’s just with the literary selection in my guest lobby. Not only am I extensively fluent in in several languages, I have access to the entire Giorgio Armani fall collection and I will flaunt it’s finely tailored mastery to outshine your drab, common appearance off the face of humanity, you slob. If only you had foreseen the kind of comeuppance your inflammatory “insignificant” comment was bound to earn you, perhaps you would have tempered your words. But you insisted, and now I will teach you manners and grace and you will learn dignity and poise, yet. Consider yourself in etiquette school, peasant.

Oh god, why?

The Wuss Homeworld

When I was younger, maybe about 8 or 9, I was under the impression that as the world went on, things would become more and more depraved, but in a good way. We’d be having gigantic orgies in the middle of highways, people would be streaking through cities repeatedly firing rifles into the air.

I thought we would be setting abandoned buildings on fire and tossing squirrels into the inferno, and shooting out windows just for fun.

Young Isoya hoped for this with all her little messed up heart, and as expected, it never came.

The new generation is one of the few without that figure, or multiple figures that angered your typical parent beyond comprehension. We don’t have any people who are like “DAT GOD DAYEM [insert person here] BE BRAINWASHNG R KIDSS!!1!!!!!”

Instead, we have people who try to make themselves look at least a little bit out of the norm, but it’s so scrubbed down that it’s really just a bunch of overly colorful drivel.

My point is, this planet has turned into a planet of absolute pussies.

Live a little, you hunks of shit.

Starving Kenyan children = BEAUTIFUL!

Image

So, I’ve taken issue with yet another pointless so called “issue”.

You know how there’s these people who have the idea that everyone is beautiful? These people who think they’re these mega-righteous moral crusaders and think that everyone is and everything is awesome and beautiful?

Allow me to show you. Image

Image

Consider this, people.

 

Imagine in your mind, an extremely morbidly obese guy, around 600 pounds, spying on children at a playground, behind a tree. His torn wifebeater is covered in the juices of everything he’s drank and eaten in the past 6 months.

His face looks like a glob of acne and zits with a head attached to it. He licks his lips in anticipation and tosses out some candy, but then suddenly, this ‘beautiful’ guy gets a heart attack and makes the most terrifying noises possible.

Isn’t that beautiful?

 

Imagine a group of starving Kenyan children with guns to their heads, being screamed at to pick some tea leaves so slave drivers can get paid a few pennies to sell them to rich American slave drivers that get paid a few million.

Isn’t that beautiful?

 

Imagine a mutilated walrus floating in a pool of shit and piss while barfing up half digested infants.

Isn’t that

SO

FUCKING

BEAUTIFUL?

 

My point is, quit lying to yourselves so you can look like nice people. You fucking aren’t.

Stop it.

Just.

Stop.

Exhaustion, sleeping, thinking, butts.

Image

 

Glitchy glitchy goo, you little bastards.

Listen, you 4 or 5 magnificent bastards, I’ve got my titties in a twist about something retarded again!

 

Wait… what exactly is on my mind?

 

Can’t tell…

 

Wait, is that some brain activity?

Awesome!

 

Can’t sleep. So, so TIRED, but I just can’t sleep. Too many thoughts, too many totally irrelevant things streaming through my mind, incinerating my willpower and exhausting my ability to talk about anything meaningful. That fucking noise is back, and my head starts pulsating every now and then. My mind is summoning landscapes of fire, it’s summoning the future. Everything that I thought was going to happen repeats itself in my mind over and over again, and worries me over something that may happen long after I am gone.

 

My point is…

I can’t fucking sleep.

Decency? HAHA NOPE

 

decency

Decency. It’s a harmless thing that I’ve got my panties in a twist over, and I’ll be glad to tell you all why. All you 2 or 3 followers or so, that is. Decency is, by the common human’s definition, simply having a little class. Don’t respond to insults, have good manners, and in addition, hate each and every single kind of ideal I have, with a burning passion.

Being a human, I naturally – CHICKEN MCFUCKIT YOUR CHICKEN McNUGGET. Excuse me. Being a human, I naturally feel the need to challenge whoever challenges my own ideals, so let’s get right to it.

Decency is an attempt to repress our natural tendencies to have outbursts, fits of rage, and much more, particularly on terms of social settings. It is also an attempt to repress our love of things that are more fun than survival. Hanggliding, ziplining, other things that might kill us, but are amazingly fun. Instead, we are expected to sit there at a desk, hitting a button until we are paid. Because that’s DECENT and HUMBLE, right you guys?

NO. Listen. When you can’t let out your emotions, when you can’t have a little adrenaline, life is nothing. When you get pissed off, you should say “FFFFFUUUUCK YOU!!”, rather than just taking it up the ass from whoever has pissed you off. I don’t think any one of us want to live a life where we never stand up for ourselves, where we can never be obscene, where we can never just let go and be real humans. We don’t need to be zombies. We don’t need to be slaves to fucking bullshit like ‘manners’, constantly inhibiting our NEED to go batshit. On a smaller degree, I always live this way. I need to get rid of the insanity as fast as it builds up.

The urge to have an outburst builds up in your typical human, and it keeps building until they have a little leak and end up hurting someone. It’s like standing on a running hose, then somehow the water builds up to the point where it knocks you down.

Anyway, my point is…

FUCK

THAT

SHIT