I’m not sure how to start something like this. If I’m in person, I typically just say what I have to say and if you don't like I typically either drink more or punch you in the gut, depending on what class of people I’m entertaining. I guess just off the dome is how this needs to go.
It’s not secret I hate people. Humans, from an anthropological and theological standpoint are the bee’s knees, but people, their personalities and the shit that spews out of their mouths usually renders me hateful. It’s not even a concentrated hate. Because of the way I think, when I’m pissed off at one person (no matter the gender) I tend to just blame the entire country. I don’t have that thing in my head that says I shouldn’t judge the whole on the opinion of one--but in a nation run by one president, with all his actions scrutinized, on a planet that idolizes a pope, and his actions, what else have I been taught? I suppose that’s unfair. I’m capable of bucking against that grain. But honestly? It’s easier to blame the whole.
I mean, that’s the thinking behind a lot of people isn’t it? Blame something that isn’t them? That’s the trend now, so I see. Why not leap on that bandwagon and go for a trip. Here, I’ll take you with me.
I’m going to explain what I hate, and 80% of you are going to agree with me. Don’t believe me? Let’s try.
- “My _____ is just killing me. I’m in so much pain. I went to the doctor and they gave me _____ but it isn’t working. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m in so much pain and nothing is helping/I went back to the doctor and they gave me _____ but I just feel sick/nothing helps/what’s wrong with me???”
1A: Fuck you.
1B: You’re absolutely right. Nothing is helping you. Dear God, I’m so sorry. After over 100 years of medical discovery and diagnosis, you’re the one diamond in the rough, containing within you the only representation of a disease/illness no one has ever heard of! Oh my god! You’re going to be in newspapers, and on the tv; people will write books about you and oh my! All those home remedies your simpleton concerned friends are giving you aren’t going to work of course, and no one will ever know what’s wrong with you but you, so damn. You’re going to die. Holy shit, you’re going to die!
The Cure: Get fucked. No, I mean it. There’s a 78% you have at least one kid and fit in the >$20,000 a year brackett if this is your problem in life. Having a kid at an early age or while you couldn’t afford it wasn’t the best idea. All the money and love goes to them x2 or x3, which leaves very little time for being you. Do you even remember you? Would before-kid you even say shit like this? Ever? Here’s a pointer. Have your husband/wife ram the shit out of you. You need it. Go on a week’s worth of nice dates. Enjoy yourself. Pay for a sitter. I promise your “stomach” will feel better. Have a little sex. Flirt a bunch. Can’t afford a sitter? Use family. Are you estranged? There are free ways to have you kid taken care of while you go eat. Just fucking do something that’s about you so you remember who you are and stop this senseless bullshit. Seriously. We all think this. Your closest friends who can actually read think this. Please get fucked. Please.
2) “I’m diagnosed _______/_________; there’s a reason I behave this way.”
1A) Are you a female? Refer to 1C.
1B) Unless you’ve served in the military or have been raped, there’s no reason to claim any of this shit. Go get your dick wet, man. Go listen to some great music. What was that band you listened to back in high school that you actually liked? You know? That tune you used to hear in your head when that hot teacher would give you shit. Remember that one. You’re good, man. Chill.
1C) You’re a woman. You’re bi-polar once a month, depressive for two weeks a month regardless and generally good looking all the time. If you’re dating someone or generally bored right now that doesn’t make you an “insomniac”. Shut the fuck up. You’re a normal human being. Refer to 1B.
There’s an entire list of this shit I’m both too drunk and too level-headed to write about. What I’m trying to say is that meeting people in various states has rendered me hateful of this entire place. Why are you so ignorant? What’s wrong with having fun and being happy?
When did diagnoses become so popular and chic? When did rough fucking and one-night stands become the standard?
Here, let me show you.
My name is Lucky. I like gentle touches and kissing very pretty women. I’m entirely normal. I like reading books, watching television series, depthy video games and watching drag queens lip-synch. I like drinking, writing, air hockey and the smell of vanilla. I like bowling, when people laugh, and when the density of alcohol can stack so it makes neat cocktails. I have a ton of embarrassing photos from before digital cameras if you want to see them, and I’ll play any party game as long as I can keep my socks on for it. All my friends are hyper-intelligent and are as unique as I am.
How hard was that.