I hate these people, I fucking do. Right now, I'm sitting across from someone who's said all of three words to me, and has already managed to make me want to drown them in embryonic fluid and sour milk. She's sitting there with her fakeass computer, looking at a bunch of fakeass books, writing down a bunch of fakeass schoolwork for her fakeass middleclass whitebread Republican American Christian cunt-spawns. Wanna' know what she's said to me? What she thought was important enough to interrupt my mental-masturbation to Jack? (Read it. It's a good webcomic) She, a complete stranger, felt I should know she didn't like my posture in the chair I was sitting in.
A few minutes later, she wanted to let me know how disappointing it was that she'd lost her charger, and after that she said "I can't seem to find a book I'm looking for.". Bitch, you're about to have trouble finding your eyeballs in a minute, because they'll be jammed so far up your ass. Seriously, she's still talking to me, as I'm writing this: I haven't said a single goddamn word to her, and she's going into yap mode.
Right now I'd like nothing more then to unplug my headphones and let her listen to "Punk voter", or show her some videos of Ethiopian children being forced to fight to the death with spears, or let her listen to the screams and begging of the last person they sent to the injection chamber. You know why? Because she's not a real person. Does it even matter what I do to her? Does she have real emotions, or a life outside what she thinks is socially acceptable? Has she resorted to talking to strangers about their offensive sitting habits because she needs to feel she can contribute some sort of knowledge to the Human race?
She's plastic, a fucking token being from the unattainable fantasy of a Public Service Announcement. In her world, when the bombs drop, we all just curl up under our desks and wait for the nice rescue workers to come and dig us out. We wait, we do what we're told, and we'll be alright. Everything is the same, everyone will be the same. Everyone will have the same childhood values as you, your little girl won't date until seventeen. Your son's world is rollerblading, and he was crushed when his team lost the basketball game last Wednesday, but it's okay because today you all sat down for dinner and worked through your problems.
All these people ever do is reproduce and die. I could go back fifty years and find a woman just like this girl, probably even have them swap lives and no one would notice.
You know what I'm proud to say? If someone suddenly swapped me out for her, people would notice. I'm me, not you, and not your fucking fantasy island mom/wife/teacher. I'm me, you impotent shits, and that's more then she can say. I like jerking off to pictures of furry animals shaped like humans, I listen to music about violating people with knives, I watch movies about robots taking over the world, I listen to a physicist talk about his work on Youtube from time to time, and I like to offend people. You'll almost never see me do something just because someone else thinks that's what I should be doing, and god damn it I'm proud of that, because that's what it means to be an Americ-, no, a person. How many humans in the world can really call themselves people?
Go yiff in Hell.
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