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Anniversaries and Emo Fags
I never once forgot an anniversary. For some reason I can remember dates like they were written on the back of my hand. It is really weird, and it pisses people off to no end. The DRS anniversary blowout extravaganza is the day before my anniversary, and that is important to me (not the site one - MINE). That is the day I stumbled into a full fledged relationship. I found the girl that gives me balance. I am going to say that she changed me, because she did. I still do a lot of the shit I used to, but my sarcasm is even worse than before. With the help of Lady Raine, it became more refined and well balanced. With her tutelage, I am now able to wordsmith with the best of them, and think on my toes. Also, for some unholy reason, she is now the voice of my conscience telling me to snap at people, and make them feel bad when they say something stupid. It keeps my stools regular.
You see, I took her to see Marylin Manson, because he is the most romantic thing around - and the show was ok, I guess. Slunt opened for him, and they fucking sucked... The singer flashed the crowd for fuck’s sake! I guess that’s because there were a bunch of gay goth kids in the audience. The place was fucking packed to its max capacity, and from where I was at in the building, I could see that a lot of the people were there just to be seen, and that’s it. These people were not fans, they were posers. This seems to be a trend nowadays at concerts. Shit, the last time I saw GWAR, there were a bunch of emo fags right behind me, trying their best NOT to have a good time! WHAT THE FUCK? IT'S FUCKING GWAR!!! Now THAT was a good show, Oderus defiled Blanket Jackson and murdered Paris Hilton, while raping her dog. Good times were had. Too bad that was in the middle of December and it was cold as all fucking hell.
But the emo kids just would not have anything to do with it. They just stood around, and when the music started they started to do this dancing shit that looked like a mass epileptic seizure. I hate them. These kids wear women’s fucking pants, white belts, gelled hair, and call themselves "Hardcore". When I grew up, “Hardcore” was Combat boots and whatever was not too dirty in the drawer. Fuck, I still have the same boots from years ago - I am wearing them now as a matter of fact. Boots for the pits and for stomping, that’s what they were. We would never be caught dead looking like these emo fucks. Hardcore is NOT some glam-look, like these emo fags would have you believe. It was a take-no-shit attitude that would put the FEAR in others. Now “Hardcore” just seems to mean to stand around in drag and look sad when people like me who "Don't understand" start to laugh at these fags.
I think most of the fucking world "does not understand", but as Mark Twain said: “When you find your opinions in the majority, it is time to rethink them.” But fuck that, I will NEVER be like those pansy ass motherfuckers, nor would I even consider it. I like to tell people how it is, I am not some goddamn introvert “poor-me” candy ass motherfucker who will write poetry when someone calls me fucking names in a crowded place. That is cowardice. Faggotry. Who ever said that the pen is mightier than the sword must have never won a real drag-down fist fight, because a sense of euphoria swells over you (or at least me) once the adrenalin starts to die down afterwards. The only thing I don’t like, when that feeling sets in, is that my knee cap will mysteriously start to bounce and jerk, just like one of those damn emo kids. They are so fucking annoying, but like the Studly McMuffins, The Slutty McCummy Lips, The Wiggers, and the rest of the gang, it is illegal to kill them, so we just have to deal with it.
