If you’ve ever drawn a picture of Spongebob Squarepants giving a blowjob, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever complained about WWE programming not having enough man on woman violence, you might be a sociopath.
If you can see the irony in finding a coat hanger in a catholic church, you might be a sociopath.
If you constantly refer to Nickelodeon as “The Foot Fetish Channel”, you might be a sociopath.
If you actually know there’s a website called Wiki Feet, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever been kicked out of the mafia for being too violent, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever ripped the wings off of a fly and then poured hot bacon grease over it, you might be a sociopath.
If the spinning table scene from Tales From the Hood gives you an erection, you might be a sociopath.
If a Soulfly song has ever changed your life, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever cracked your knuckles during a moment of silence for 9/11 victims, you might be a sociopath.
If you go to a grocery store and buy duct tape and adult diapers at the same time, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever refused medical treatment because you like to watch yourself bleed, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever spanked a baby for being too loud, you might be a sociopath.
If the only reason you buy stuffed animals is to make them have sex with each other, you might be a sociopath.
If you have a crush on Casey Anthony, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever photo-shopped a ball gag in Nelson Mandela’s mouth, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever been hungry for human jerky, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever smacked a child and claimed it was self-defense, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever told a pregnant woman to staple her vagina shut, you might be a sociopath.
If your best strategy in a political debate is to burn an American flag, you might be a sociopath.
If you’ve ever wanted to scalp somebody for not liking your art, you might be a sociopath.
Jeff Foxworthy never though of this shit, did he! Jeff Foxworthy, eat your heart out! Actually, don’t do that. Otherwise, you might be a sociopath.
Showing posts with label 9/11. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 9/11. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Friday, March 14, 2014
"Love Hate Tragedy" by Papa Roach
“Tragedy strikes when you least expect it.” If Papa Roach sang these lyrics to you, wouldn’t you want to find some kind of justification for being tragically sad? While it is true that the lyrics are about 9/11 and the upcoming wars that stemmed from it, when I was listening to this song on 2003, I wasn’t thinking about 9/11. In fact, I didn’t invest my heart and soul into liberal politics until 2004 when John Kerry lost to George W. Bush in the presidential race. In 2003, the height of my schizophrenic symptoms, “Love Hate Tragedy” became special to me as an anthem for the depressed…because I forgot my money to buy a cap and gown for graduation. That’s all it was. I was sad and lonely because I couldn’t afford a goddamn cap and gown on that particular day. The next day, on the other hand, when I could actually remember to take the check with me, everything was back to normal in my own little world. Did I just say normal and my own little world in the same sentence? I’m full of unbelievable tropes tonight. But that’s okay, because after I graduated from high school in 2003, I had plenty of reasons throughout the 2000’s to be sad about something. The schizophrenic symptoms were the tip of the iceberg. The loneliness of home and college life were much deeper. My suspension from college, well, that could have set off emotional triggers like a detonator on a suicide bomb vest. If you want to take away a lesson from my story about how much “Love Hate Tragedy” means to me, just remember that tragedy can strike at any time. Even the little negativities in life can have the biggest impact. You might be fine after almost being run over with a car one minute, but if someone calls you a doo-doo head the next, you’re mind is spiraling out of control. It’s not just true for schizophrenics like me. It’s true for a lot of sensitive people. Writers are the most sensitive people in the world when it comes to their craft (unless your name is Ann Coulter, in which case, you have the biggest mean streak when it comes to “literature”). But when you’re feeling down in the dumps over a minor (or major) setback in life, remember the words of my good friend Gracie Jones. She said that there may never be one big thing in life that makes you permanently happy, but there are lots of little things that can take you from day to day. If you focus on those little pieces of happiness, depression will seem so far away and “Love Hate Tragedy” will be just another badass rock and roll song from a badass rock and roll band. If you’re a writer and somebody tells you that you should be a writer for The Simpsons, hang onto that piece of heaven for as long as you can. I had a friend tell me that today on Good Reads and it made me giggle with delight. You can fight through this, people. You’re never alone.
***DOMESTIC DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***
ME: Hey Susan, I’ve got a joke for you. What do you call it when you hang dildos on a Christmas tree?
SUSAN: Disturbing? Disgusting? Horrifying? What?
ME: Pornaments.
Labels:
9/11,
Bass,
Dave Buckner,
Depression,
Drums,
Guitar,
Hard Rock,
Heavy Metal,
Jacoby Shaddix,
Jerry Horton,
Love Hate Tragedy,
Papa Roach,
Sadness,
Schizophrenia,
School,
Tobin Esperance,
Tony Palermo,
Vocals
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