Stop believing proven liars. You don’t have to be so fucking nice all the time.
I’ve always enjoyed a wide variety of music spanning across ages and lands. However, now that I live among some of the lowest forms of
[monster-chugging, meth-smoking, tailgating, rude-driving, tobacco-spitting, cousin-kissing, bible-thumping, squirrel-eating, cat-killing, dog-abusing, fan-of-shitty-music-marketed-for-mass-mind-control, military-worshipping]
american swine I can feel a refreshed arrogance in my eclectic tastes.
I shall continue to enjoy and discover weird music, reveling in my own cultural bigotry. This pride does not compare to the boorish prejudice that some of their ilk herald each day. It is tattered with perforations burned by compassion and patience for the folly of humanity.
I fear that one day I shall be slain by the careless driving or gun-firing of their lot; devoured by the same poisons meant by their cruel masters to kill them off. I dread being reincarnated in the stunted brain of some inbred local yokel, drinking mountain dew from a bottle at the age of 3 and smoking menthols at the age of 5. Or worse yet, being not slain but brain damaged, doomed to submit myself under their hands of care and condescension, attending their parties against my will, chained to an electric motor chair of paralyzed spoon-feeding and incoherent moaning.
The zombie hands of the united states of degradation grope at me from every corner of this anguished and doomed land. Oh dread and woe is the poisoned landscape of redneck ruin.
Thank you for reading this heart-felt message.
Goodnight, ladies and gentlement; freaks and lunatics; tinfoil hats and 12-sided-die; hybrids and mutants; luminescent pearls of intelligence glinting across a universe not as cold as it may seem to the blinded eyes of our earthly plight.
Goodnight and Good Luck.