Sick and Tired
I am sick and tired of people who think they are better than me.
People who think they are better than me just because they don’t eat crayons–there’s no law against eating crayons.
Do you know what all serial killers have in common: they don’t eat crayons. They occasionally eat people, but never crayons. Would you prefer I went around murdering people? I’ll bet you would, because you’re all judgy.
I’m sick and tired of people who think they are better than me just because they’ve never slapped a mime in the face–there’s no law against slapping mimes in the face.
Okay, there is a law against slapping mimes in the face–but there shouldn’t be! When did this country become the type of fascist police state where you can’t slap a mime in the face?
I’m fed up with those of you who think you’re so superior just because you’ve never licked a toad then urinated on a police car. Police cars are inanimate objects: they don’t care if you pee on them.
The police officer gets a little angry–the toad was furious.
And so what if I like to spend my evenings sitting in a dimly lit room, chugging bottles of Orange Jubilee Mad Dog 20/20, eating from a tub of mayonnaise, with the B-52’s greatest hits blaring at full volume on the stereo as I fingerpaint pictures of giraffes and other even toed ungulates on the walls. (Sometimes I do it dressed up like a rodeo clown.)
There’s nothing weird about any of that…except for listening to the B-52’s–I shouldn’t do that.
Think about this: if I didn’t do weird and unspeakable things this blog wouldn’t even exist.
You’re right–I should probably stop.