Pretty Boys 0, Ryan 1
I hate pretty boys. I hate them with all my heart and soul. I can not tolerate their presence. I feel as if every nanosecond I am near one some sort of cancerous propaganda-filled package of thought will ooze from them and infect me with all the malady of a thousand mind-lepers. I hate them. I cringe in anguish as I think about the agony of having to communicate with them for any reason because I feel like I have been temporarily lobotomized. They have such a microscopic, sex-obsessed brain that is superfluous with testosterone and every ego-inflating mental device known to man. Every time I speak or try to extend a hand of friendship I am always cut off or interrupted with some infinitely more important bullshit.
“Oh she’s hot, I dated her, yeah my car is real expensive, I only dress in Abercrombe and Fitch, I’m the best at this, I’m the best at that, I’m better than you, I’m awesome at basketball, I’m awesome at all the ‘cool’ video games and those are the only ones I play, I was the best football player on my team, what team do you support? What you don’t like sports? What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you a man?”
Well I say no more. I say you need to take a step back from your increasingly infinitesimal world and learn something mentally stimulating. Care about something else. Ponder the essence of life, learn some philosophy. These are not bad things so why do you turn your nose at them? Is it not people like me, people who sit and learn about things for no reason but curiosity, the ones who propel humanity into the future? Is it not people like me, the smart ones, who give you the “hip” things like iPods and better cars that you so desperately and addictively brag about? You are the dirty fucking cancer of man’s mind and I hate you. You are a useless and problematic lead weight on the ankle of the collective intellect of humans. You are nothing and therefore deserve nothing until the day you awaken from your narrow, smug and petty ways of thinking. You annoy me and I hope/pray to God, Mother Nature, Father Time, Karma, and/or the Cosmos that some sort of Universal Pruning Act of Ryan’s Steaming 2005 will suddenly kick into effect and send giant thumbs to snuff you out of existence forever and ever amen. Why the hell didn’t your mother eat you when you were young? Defect.
“Oh she’s hot, I dated her, yeah my car is real expensive, I only dress in Abercrombe and Fitch, I’m the best at this, I’m the best at that, I’m better than you, I’m awesome at basketball, I’m awesome at all the ‘cool’ video games and those are the only ones I play, I was the best football player on my team, what team do you support? What you don’t like sports? What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you a man?”
Well I say no more. I say you need to take a step back from your increasingly infinitesimal world and learn something mentally stimulating. Care about something else. Ponder the essence of life, learn some philosophy. These are not bad things so why do you turn your nose at them? Is it not people like me, people who sit and learn about things for no reason but curiosity, the ones who propel humanity into the future? Is it not people like me, the smart ones, who give you the “hip” things like iPods and better cars that you so desperately and addictively brag about? You are the dirty fucking cancer of man’s mind and I hate you. You are a useless and problematic lead weight on the ankle of the collective intellect of humans. You are nothing and therefore deserve nothing until the day you awaken from your narrow, smug and petty ways of thinking. You annoy me and I hope/pray to God, Mother Nature, Father Time, Karma, and/or the Cosmos that some sort of Universal Pruning Act of Ryan’s Steaming 2005 will suddenly kick into effect and send giant thumbs to snuff you out of existence forever and ever amen. Why the hell didn’t your mother eat you when you were young? Defect.
posted by rvalich | 12:10 PM
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