Vik Decker: When He Takes a Shot of Liquor, He Shoots His Shot at a Lesbian MMA Fighter

 

The One

VERSE 1

“Surf the internet in incognito mode?

You’re on your way to hell, a lonely road

Pray to god and take your ginkgo biloba

Stop drinking every bottle of diet soda”

Your medical advice must be so nice

For those on a diet of crackers of rice

You care so much if I’m seduced and enticed

By the ladies on the screen who bring the spice

 

PRE-CHORUS

Since you’re so emotionally invested

Here’s a little challenge so unexpected

 

CHORUS 1

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who stares

At me with pretty eyes

Makes my spirit rise, destroys your lies

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who shares

Her bed with me tonight

It’s a trick question, just admit I’m right

 

VERSE 2

“Yo, bro! Just swallow these red pills

Watch some UFC, get those bloody thrills

Don’t simp for nobody, go get yourself laid

It doesn’t count if your lover gets paid”

I’ve never seen so many SWERFS in one whole place

Who never gave a woman her own O-face

That’s okay, I haven’t done that myself

So I’m jerking it raw for my mental health

 

PRE-CHORUS

Since you’re so emotionally invested

Here’s a little challenge so unexpected

 

CHORUS 1

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who stares

At me with pretty eyes

Makes my spirit rise, destroys your lies

Find me! The one who cares

Find me! The one who shares

Her bed with me tonight

It’s a trick question, just admit I’m right

 

VERSE 3

“Your computer’s slowing down, are you watching corn?

There must be other ways to keep your dick warm

Go touch some grass and then go get some ass

Here’s your invoice for the day, credit or cash?”

Five hundred bucks? Who’s got that kind of money?

I could have spent it in The Land of Milk and Honey

Oh wait, you’re one of them Elon Musk tech bros

Is that why you’ve got brown stains on your nose?

 

CHORUS 2

Oh well! It feels like no one cares

Oh well! It feels like no one wears

Every little hat I’ve got

You couldn’t walk in my shoes, couldn’t take my spot

Oh well! It feels like no one cares

Oh well! It feels so unfair

And now I sound just like a guy

With a microphone and a podcast, why?

Dump and Dip

VERSE 1

My mom’s ex-boyfriend was a son of a bitch

Gave me lots of mental wounds, ripped open every stitch

Fatphobia and psychophobia

Any flavor of bigotry, the worst and the odious

Never mind the fact that he weighed more than me

And he’s got his own version of PTSD

The cycle of abuse passed the Boomer generation

The chain breaks here, I deserved the vacation

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

 

VERSE 2

When I was in prison a.k.a. high school

Those conservative batshits were so easy to fool

Spread a rumor about me dating a monster

Fuck anything that walks, I’m a sexual imposter

That shit wasn’t true and I screamed it ‘til I’m blue

Punching and kicking was the only thing to do

That’s where I learned to solve problems with violence

But since it’s illegal, I’m confined to my silence

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

 

VERSE 3

College was the time for partying and drugs

Limerence was my addiction, falsified hugs

Crushes on musicians and actresses

Took the place of real life, ‘cause I drew no attractions

A million pounds and a resting bitch face

Made me a pariah no matter what the place

No friends, no lovers, no teachers turned besties

Still limerent today, in my mind and in my testies

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

 

VERSE 4

I call it Dump and Dip because I don’t like to talk

About personal shit, got no choice but to walk

Can’t let them see my cry or overprotect me

No nurses for me, don’t even bother to inject me

With the world’s most powerful sedative juice

That could TKO a whale, double KO a moose

My freedom means more than an orderly’s pay

My individuality is here to fucking stay

 

CHORUS

Got no time to process, keep your handsome proboscis

Out of my business, ‘cause you bear false witness

Won’t spend a single day in Sad People Jail

A.k.a. the psych ward, that’s where justice goes to fail

Fun Guy

VERSE 1

I dance like I’m in a pool that someone dropped a toaster in

I can’t do keg stands or I’ll throw up in the garbage bin

I can’t do the things that will make you confess your sins

To the preacher man when your Sunday morning begins

I haven’t smiled a day since the Reagan administration

I haven’t made love since computer masturbation

The only songs that play for me would bring tears to others’ eyes

And wouldn’t you know it, it’s been so long since I’ve cried

CHORUS 1

I can’t be a fun guy

When serotonin runs dry

Can’t be a party animal

When I sink like a cannonball

Can’t be a fun guy

Can’t be a fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

VERSE 2

You say you’re leaving my side because I bring you down so much

You say I’m on the edge of giving myself the finishing touch

You say you need a guy who has a million in change and isn’t so strange

You say you need a guy who doesn’t come off as sad and deranged

I say don’t let the door hit you on the ass when you leave

A half-hour friendship was a lifetime filled with being deceived

I wish you well and let me tell you one thing right before you go

My depression and rejection are less than one percent of what you know

CHORUS 1

I can’t be a fun guy

When serotonin runs dry

Can’t be a party animal

When I sink like a cannonball

Can’t be a fun guy

Can’t be a fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

BRIDGE X2

I didn’t choose the darkness

The darkness chose me

I could have been a fun guy

If not for fucked up brain chemistry

CHORUS 2

I can’t be a fun guy

When serotonin runs dry

Can’t be a party animal

When I sink like a cannonball

It ain’t fun for me either

When someone else is the leader

Grabbing me by the throat

Use my blood to write a special note

Can’t be a fun guy

Can’t be a fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

Fun guy! Fun guy!

Simping for a Succubus

VERSE 1

It gets lonely in the middle of nowhere

My future plans include, “I don’t care”

Wouldn’t know where to start looking

For adult fun time that’s worth booking

I have dreams about being taken away

Though I wouldn’t know where to stay

Where, oh, where is the Promised Land?

Succubus lady, take me by the hand

CHORUS

Simping for a succubus

She’s the only one I trust

To be tender, to be sweet

Then discard me on the street

VERSE 2

I know it’s wrong, but what else is there?

It’s Valentine’s Day, love is in the air

Smells a lot like a perfume miasma

To mask the stench of a decaying Santa

Candies and chocolates to make me fat

Fall flat on my face, be a perfect doormat

You can call it depression or desperation

It’s better than a lifetime of masturbation

CHORUS

Simping for a succubus

She’s the only one I trust

To be tender, to be sweet

Then discard me on the street

VERSE 3

Doctor man, what is wrong with me?

Psychoanalyze every little fucking thing

Attachment issues because of autism?

Too much width in my social schism?

Too much trauma? Too much Taco Bell?

You can’t even tell? Got more pills to sell?

Being well-adjusted to a fucked up world

Can’t compare the love of a succubus girl

EXTENDED CHORUS

Simping for a succubus

She’s the only one I trust

To be tender, to be sweet

Then discard me on the street

Simping for a succubus

Though she’ll turn me into dust

Just like ashes, just like cocaine

Up the nose into another’s brain

Other People

VERSE 1

Your bank account is birth control

Can’t make up for it with heart and soul

Love doesn’t put food on the table

And so ends the romantic fable

CHORUS

You can’t have love, it belongs to other people

No, not you, you could never be their equal

No, no, no, no, no

I said so

VERSE 2

If you complain, they call you an incel

The preacher man damns you to hell

Throw in the towel, you’re now MGTOW

You set fire to the whole damn town

EXTENDED CHORUS 1

You can’t have love, it belongs to other people

No, not you, you could never be their equal

No, no, no, no, no

I said so

You can’t move on, that’s only for other people

No, not you, you must always stay evil

No, no, no, no, no

I said so

BRIDGE

They’re unwritten rules, I don’t make them up

The one who did drinks from a golden cup

Blindly believe and shut your damn mouth

Smile and fake it, don’t bitch and pout

EXTENDED CHORUS 2

You can’t have fame, it belongs to other people

You’re to blame and there’ll never be a sequel

No, no, no, no, no

I said so

You can’t live life, that’s only for other people

Grab the knife, ‘cause you know your fate is sealed

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

The death blow

Lap Pillow: A Fantasy Story

My head cradled on her velveteen lap
Her fingers in my hair, heavenly nap
Stuck in zombie mode forever and a day
I lay in silence, but to this goddess I pray

Vampire fangs and gentle fingernails
Elven hair and flesh so milky pale
Faerie figure and the wings of an angel
Eye-to-eye contact for this fair female

She tells me everything I need to know
That it’s okay if I want to take things slow
It’s okay if I’m sad every once and a while
There will be other days for my artistic style

I believe everything she tells me and more
I believe in her kisses and what they stand for
Imagination is a powerful thing, after all
When you’re stuck behind plain white walls

I know she’s not real when I’m wide awake
I know there’s poison running through the lake
I know the sunshine is covered in smoke
I know my feelings were all just a joke

I know it’s my duty to keep her alive
Pages to preserve an imaginary wife
What good are the pages if nobody reads?
What good are the images if nobody sees?

I’m invisible in the eyes of everyone else
I could never grace their vast bookshelves
I don’t have the ability to save myself
Loneliness is mine and I wear it well

Couch Potato Salad

Running late to a party where I don’t belong
What’s the fucking point in staying so strong?
What’s the point in coming out of the shadows?
Small talk never got past the point of shallow

Laying on the couch and staring at the ceiling
Forgetting about my brokenhearted feelings
Forgetting that there are strangers all around me
I’d enter their social circles if they allowed me

Couch potato salad is what I’ve become
Lazy, dead inside, and comfortably numb
I didn’t have to suck down a single beer
To feel like sleeping forever in here

There’s a Denny’s only a few blocks away
Hopefully they’re open twenty-four hours a day
Pancakes and syrup to kill the loneliness
My body’s a temple and I’m his holiness

Nobody noticed that I got off the couch
Not a “goodbye” or “wait up” out of their mouths
That’s okay, they’re invisible to me as well
What about the waitress? Can she even tell?

Walking down the street with my head hung low
Keeping my pace so agonizingly slow
I don’t notice when someone tells me to move
To impatient strangers, I’ve nothing to prove

Another night of waffles and emptiness
Another night of squandered friendliness
Another night of being socially envious
Another night of depressive endlessness

When will I learn to stay home for the night?
When will I admit that I could never be right?
No more philosophy, just syrup and batter
It’s not like any of this even fucking matters

A happy Buddha belly and a frozen heart
This is how the next morning will start
Another day of wishing for bravery
And chowing down on steaks so savory

Remember

CHORUS 1

Remember that school is not about learning

It’s about how many F’s you’re earning

Remember that college is not about growth

It’s about how much money you’ll owe

VERSE 1

Roger Waters had it right all along

Bricks in the wall written down in a song

Don’t want to grow up to be like my teachers

Especially the ones who could pass for preachers

Raise your hand and ask your stupid question

Everyone’s laughter leaves an acidic essence

The report card reads like a crucifixion

Do you still know that it’s only pulp fiction?

CHORUS 2

Remember that school is not about friendship

It’s about tests and assignments so endless

Remember that college is not about skill

It’s about drowning your sadness in pills

VERSE 2

Nobody thinks to befriend the weird kid

Only the beautiful and clearly fearless

Nobody thinks to break the shyness

Of those who live in shadows and silence

CHORUS 3

Remember that school is not about achievements

It’s about keeping your demons a secret

Remember that college is not about jobs

It’s about telling the bullies to fuck off

Remember that love is truly exclusive

Remember that friendship is elusive

Remember that nothing is meant to last

Except the voices of your broken past

BRIDGE

Wash your clothes and cut your hair

Apply for your job like you actually care

The money and benefits just can’t compare

But you know how this ends and it’s unfair

CHORUS 4

Remember!

Remember!

Remember that your teachers are not your friends

Remember that the students aren’t yours to defend

Remember that the curriculum is useless as fuck

Remember as you hold onto your very last buck

Remember!

Remember!

FINAL LINE

Remember I will always love you…if you give me a chance

Not Worth the Pain

CHORUS

You’re not worth the pain

I’ve got nothing to gain

From watching you walk away

You’re not worth the trauma

You’re not worth the drama

Tomorrow’s yet another day

VERSE 1

What makes you worthy of my crowded mind?

What makes you worthy of my precious time?

Anybody can wear the shortest of dresses

Anybody can rock the hottest of messes

But only you can break another man down

Get your entertainment from watching me drown

Goodbye, my friend, for now and forever

I wish you the best in your future endeavors

CHORUS

You’re not worth the pain

I’ve got nothing to gain

From watching you walk away

You’re not worth the trauma

You’re not worth the drama

Tomorrow’s yet another day

VERSE 2

I’ve got enough pain in my oversized heart

And you were hardly the end or the start

I’m a sucker for only the tightest of hugs

It’s kind of like being high on opium drugs

Fool me once and the shame goes on you

Fool me twice and it’s really nothing new

I’ve got to kick this habit sometime soon

Before I get locked up like a loony toon

CHORUS

You’re not worth the pain

I’ve got nothing to gain

From watching you walk away

You’re not worth the trauma

You’re not worth the drama

Tomorrow’s yet another day

VERSE 3

Why do I keep on doing this to myself?

Why do I keep on compromising my health?

Why do I form these unhealthy crushes?

Why do I use friendship as my crutches?

Why do you keep coming back in my life?

Why do you keep on twisting the knife?

Why do you keep on breaking my heart?

Why do you like to tear my life apart?

BRIDGE

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!

You’re not worth the pain!

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!

You’re not worth the shame!

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!

You’re not worth the sadness!

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!

You’re not worth the madness!

Obligations

Running away from your obligations

Won’t put an end to the conversation

The topic’s been brewing for a while

Never mind approaching it with style

You must attack the problem head-on

Even if it starts to feel morally wrong

You don’t have to have the answers

You’re a team player, not a freelancer

Help each other come to a conclusion

Don’t spend so much time in seclusion

Don’t confuse the act of cooling down

With running away and skipping town

You can do this, it’s a phone call away

Don’t put this off for yet another day

Three words, eight letters, say it loud

Before the hatred comes back around

Don’t let a small misunderstanding

Become your downfall, a stiff landing

Pick up the phone before it’s too late

Before the silence has sealed your fate

You Hate Me 'Cause I Love You

VERSE 1

If I put this out into the universe

Will you be the one who hurts?

If I say this to your lovely face

Would it invade your personal space?

If I told you I loved you until the end

Would you cease to be my best friend?

Is it worth taking the biggest chance

Or will I fumble and fall on my ass?

CHORUS 1

You hate me ‘cause I love you

You choose to walk out of sight

You hate me ‘cause I love you

You choose to call it a night

VERSE 2

I’m sorry if I’ve offended you

But everything I said was true

I don’t take any of my words back

I’ll take them deep into the black

CHORUS 2

You hate me ‘cause I love you

You choose to end the whole thing

You hate me ‘cause I love you

My broken heart forever sings

VERSE 3

My eyes are open, yet full of tears

Planned this confession for many years

Went against my instincts and worst fears

I see it all, it’s now so vivid and clear

I should have kept this to myself

Loneliness is no good for my health

Got desperate and made a mistake

Watched you cry, watched your heart break

CHORUS 3

You hate me ‘cause I love you

I’ll pack my bags and fuck off

You hate me ‘cause I love you

How could I be so damn soft?

You hate me ‘cause I love you

I’ll get my ass on an airplane

You hate me ‘cause I love you

Anything to keep you sane

Lonesome Town

VERSE 1

Like smoking fifteen cigarettes a day

A dead body is the price you will pay

A dead mind is all you’ll ever find

Can’t say isolation without saying I

Depression’s killing you deep inside

Under the blankets is where you hide

It’s never too late to ask for some help

Could be a stranger or one you know well

CHORUS

Welcome to Lonesome Town

Everyone is feeling down

Everyone is reaching out for love

But sometimes it’s never enough

VERSE 2

A crowded party feels empty and cold

No one to talk to and nobody to hold

Nobody is worth being so damn bold

The cycle of sadness is getting so old

Another night of loneliness and shame

Another night of brokenhearted pain

Another night of feeling like shit

Another night of getting sick of it

CHORUS

Welcome to Lonesome Town

Everyone is feeling down

Everyone is reaching out for love

But sometimes it’s never enough

VERSE 3

On the day of your coffin slumber

Do you regret being torn asunder?

Does taking a chance hurt that badly?

The answer is always yes, sadly

No place lonelier than the grave

Out of reach is the love you crave

Is there a next time? I don’t know

Is it worth the pain so deadly and slow?

CHORUS

Welcome to Lonesome Town

Everyone is feeling down

Everyone is reaching out for love

But sometimes it’s never enough

Incelbordination, Chapter 6

“You know, for somebody who has a lot of shit to talk about, you’re certainly taking your time in starting the conversation,” said Oswald with his arms crossed.

“It’s called making you sweat,” explained Detective Barry. “From the looks of how I found you, I figured you’d be sweating bullets right now. That’s okay, we can wait a little longer.”

Oswald nervously fidgeted with his fingernails while Mia remained cool behind the wheel of her car. The little guy noticed that they’d passed his dorm several times during this ride. His only haven for smoking weed and shaking off the jailbait blues was a short walk away and all this detective wanted to do was wait for him to break. Oswald picked at his fingernails some more until they were too short to do so. Next he picked at his hangnails. Then he picked skin off of his chapped lips.

With nothing left to fidget with and a big enough craving for marijuana, Oswald finally snapped. “Alright, what the hell do you want from me anyways? Do I need a lawyer or some shit?”

“I’m not sure, Mr. Crow, do you? Is there a secret you’re trying to protect from me? I haven’t even said a word yet and already you’re asking for legal counsel. What’s on your mind, buddy?”

Oswald put his balled up fist in his mouth and made Marcellus Wallace pawn shop noises from Pulp Fiction, which gave Mia a good chuckle. “So you’re a comedian now? I didn’t think someone as sad as you had a sense of humor in them.”

The dwarf made a flat tire sound and said, “Sad? Come on, you’re better than this, Detective.”

“Better than what, exactly? Are you saying I don’t do my own research? Are you projecting yourself onto me when you imply that? I’ve seen your creative writing grade, buddy. I’ve seen a lot of things about you.”

“Great, first Antero’s a fucking stalker and now you.” Oswald immediately cupped his mouth shut upon revealing his “associate’s” name.

“Ah-ha! I knew it!” said Mia while pointing a finger at her passenger. “There is something going on with you and Antero Magnus.”

“…Who?”

“Oh, nothing. I just figured since you blurted out a random Finnish name that you’d probably know at least one guy who fits that profile.” Oswald was mentally kicking himself for his blunder while Mia continued. “I’m not stupid, Mr. Crow. I know more about this case than you’ll ever figure out in your lifetime. Yes, in case you haven’t figured it out, there’s a case being built against Antero Magnus. We don’t have much to go on, but we’ve got hunches here and there. Word of advice, little guy: stay as far away from Incelbordination as you possibly can.”

Shaking his head, Oswald retorted, “You don’t have to tell me twice, lady. I already know how much of a scumbag he is.”

“Oh, really? Is that why you happened to be eating outside McDonald’s instead of inside where there’s air conditioning?”

“Aw, shit,” said Oswald while holding his head in his hand. “Well, if you’ve really seen everything, you’d know that I didn’t do shit while I was out there. I gave that chick the food and then I took off. I swear that’s all that happened.”

“Don’t worry, I believe you. What I don’t believe is that you had that idea all by yourself. Antero’s pulling your strings, buddy. I know it. I’ve had to arrest a few of his Incelbordination minions for actually going through with the business deal. The one thing they all had in common was a McDonald’s gift card. Anybody can have one, but when you spend thirty dollars on supposedly just yourself, that’s awfully suspicious.”

Oswald slapped his palms against his knees and asked, “What do you want from me?”

“You don’t have to give me anything, Oswald, except for maybe a promise that you won’t join Incelbordination. Even then I don’t think I’d be able to sleep at night. The thing about Antero’s logic is that it’s seductive to young people like you. It was designed to be seductive. It’s easier to use women as scapegoats rather than face your own problems head on. It’s convenient. The only problem is, when you take that black pill, you might as well be chugging bleach. If you join Incelbordination, Antero will radicalize you until there’s nothing left of your ability to think for yourself.”

Oswald tucked his chin to his chest and said, “I’m not worth saving, Detective.”

“See? That’s the kind of talk I’d expect from a young man who’s become indoctrinated. Involuntary Celebates, or Incels, are all brought together by their low self-esteem. They’re so convinced that they’re ugly that they lash out at the wrong people. Person-to-person, the only way you could ever be ugly is if you allowed yourself to be brainwashed by these people.”

Folding his arms, Oswald sighed, “Inner beauty doesn’t mean shit anymore, Detective. If it did, I wouldn’t have had the shit kicked out of me in high school and middle school. Being a midget isn’t fun and there’s nothing humorous about it. If I didn’t learn how to box, I’d probably be dead right now. That’s how bad shit has gotten. I don’t want to be a violent person, but these normies are putting me in a situation where it’s either me or them.”

“I’m sensing that you don’t have a whole lot of role models in your life,” said Mia solemnly.

“You are very, very perceptive, Detective Barry. Then again, you wouldn’t be a very good cop if you weren’t.”

Putting an empathetic hand on Oswald’s shoulder, Mia said, “Look, I know you haven’t had the easiest life, as you’ve just described. You’re desperate for someone to show you the way. I’m telling you right now, that someone isn’t Antero Magnus. He doesn’t care about you or your need for love. He cares only about his own violent agenda. Please, promise me that you won’t go anywhere near him.”

“I can promise I won’t go anywhere near him, but I can’t promise he won’t go anywhere near me. I don’t seek him out on purpose, you know.”

“I know you don’t, Mr. Crow. I know how sneaky he can be. And just to give you a heads up, if Antero ever does bother you again, he’s going to bring up his deceased Uncle Tuomas and use him for a sympathy ploy.”

“So his uncle was the keyboardist for Nightwish?”

Mia patted Oswald on the back and chuckled. “Oh, Mr. Crow, you slay me. But on a serious note, anybody who has ever joined Incelbordination knows about the Uncle Tuomas card. Antero is going to tell you that he committed suicide because he was falsely accused of rape and therefore lost his reputation. While false accusations happen far too often for my comfort, this time our police work was right on the money. Don’t let Antero spin it in any other direction. You can research this story yourself if you don’t believe me. Oh, I forgot, you’re not known for your research skills. But hey, this time it’s important.”

“Look, Detective, I appreciate your concern about my wellbeing, but if you’re not going to charge me with any serious offense, then I suggest you take me to my dorm. I’m not exactly feeling the love right now.”

“Understandable,” said Mia. “But I’m just going to give you fair warning right now: if you join Incelbordination and you do something illegal under their watch, I’ll have no choice but to arrest you as a terrorist. Terrorists get worse treatment under the law than regular criminals, which is a fucking disgrace to our justice system considering how many innocent Middle Easterners are in Guantanamo Bay, but that’s beside the point. The point is, if you think you’re going to cure your loneliness by joining Incelbordination, then you need to quickly realize you’ll only make it worse.”

Just like that, the joyride was over and Mia parked outside Oswald’s dorm building. The little guy wasted no time in getting out of the car and hurrying to his door, but not without shaking his head at Mia telling him to, “Have a nice evening.”

He rushed to his bedroom and scrambled for a ready roll in his underwear drawer. Low and behold, he finally found his Zippo lighter. He smiled insanely at the hardware before scurrying outside for a smoke. He shifted his eyes left and right to make sure neither Mia Barry nor Antero Magnus were going to sneak up on him. He even made abrasive “booga-booga-booga” noises just to make sure it was only him and the night air. Once he was one hundred percent certain the coast was clear, he leaned back against the wall and lit up his joint.

Relaxation took over his body as he gently slid down on his ass enjoying his smoke. How he loved this magic medicine and the way it made the night sky look like a Pink Floyd laser show. He needed this private time to himself. He needed his beautiful weed. Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant he had all the time in the world to sort out his problems. Maybe he would fix up his C- paper, maybe he would just set the fucking thing on fire now that he found his Zippo. Either way, Oswald needed this weekend like any other stressed out college student did.

Incelbordination, Chapter 4

Oswald wiped the rainy weather from his face long enough to see another reason to cry his eyes out if he so chose: Antero Magnus with a book of matches. Clearly, a compromise had to be made. Or did it? “Why the fuck do you keep following me everywhere I go? Are you some kind of lost puppy dog or some shit?” In a brazen move reminiscent of last night, Antero swiped the ready roll from Oswald’s hand and lit it himself before taking a few puffs. “Excuse me?!” said Oswald with big red eyes. “That’s not yours to smoke! I need that shit for my depression!”

Handing the marijuana roll back to its rightful owner, Antero spit out a cloud of green and said, “Let me ask you something, Oswald. How many times have you puffed the shit out of that roll and found permanent happiness afterwards? The answer is zero, because as powerful as that shit is, it’s only a temporary fix to a much bigger problem.” The incel took a seat next to his charge and patted him on the shoulder. “You already know what the bigger problem is, don’t you?”

Taking a puff and spitting out an even bigger cloud than his lungs would allow, Oswald said, “Yeah, I know what it is. It has something to do with a weirdo in a trench coat taking hits of my Mary-Jane. Seriously, what could you possibly see in me? I’m not what you’re looking for. I don’t blame my insecurities on other people.”

“Which is precisely why you punched a muscle jock in the dick and why you ran away from a smooth-legged English teacher.”

Wide-eyed yet again, Oswald exclaimed, “Dude! You’ve got to stop following me everywhere! That’s fucking creepy!” Antero chuckled and removed his sunglasses, revealing those horrifying cyan-colored eyes. “Ah! Put your glasses back on! Put ‘em back on!” screamed Oswald while shielding his face with his hands.

“As you wish,” said Antero before complying with his “friend’s” request. “But I must warn you, there are scarier things in this world than weirdly-colored eyes. There’s a conspiracy against us. And when I say us, I mean you, me, and every other Supreme Gentlemen who’s had the deck stacked against them their whole lives. We don’t look like the normies. We don’t talk like the normies. We don’t wear the same kind of hats they do either. That bothers them. So what do they do? They commit social genocide.”

“Okay, okay, okay, this is getting fucked up,” said Oswald with his hands raised. “Social genocide? You’re using the G-word to describe not being able to get laid? How in the hell do you…”

“I don’t expect you to understand right away,” said Antero while readjusting his sunglasses. “Some lessons take longer to learn than others. But to answer your question, the G-word isn’t all about getting laid. Anybody can get laid. Surely, there are enough sex surrogates and prostitutes to go around. It’s love that we seek and can never find. We give it all away and none of it is returned. A simple thank-you would be enough for some people. Me? I want a little bit of interest with my investment.”

Oswald’s mouth became O-shaped at the statement he tried so desperately hard to digest. Antero dug through his own trench coat and pulled out his wallet. “You know what? I can tell you’re not convinced just yet. That’s okay. College is a time for learning, right? Well, you’ve got a lot to learn about the way the world works against us.” Antero handed Oswald a thirty-dollar McDonald’s gift card and said, “Two words: McDonald’s prostitute.”

Flipping the card over and over again in disbelief, Oswald stared at the meal ticket like he was holding a severed head. “Mc…Donald’s prostitute?”

“That’s right, little man,” said Antero before patting him on the back. “Everybody’s got a price tag on them. For the women down at Mickey D’s, all they ever wanted was a little bit of loving and a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. That’s how shitty our economy has gotten. When you’re too broke for a basic McDonald’s meal and you have to turn to sex to get one, that’s how you know shit’s all fucked up. Of course, I don’t know how in god’s name a Quarter Pounder could taste good when there’s splooge sloshing around in their mouths.”

“This….this…this is sick, Antero. This is fucking sick!”

“I know it’s sick, Oswald. I know. But sometimes you can’t take the highroad forever. You want someone to love you, right? You want to experience that cherry pop for the first time? All you have to do so come bearing the gifts of French fries, nuggets, greasy meat, and…well….greasy meat!” Antero chuckled at his own joke.

Finally peeling his terrified eyes away from the gift card, Oswald said, “Dude…you’re not funny. Nothing about this is comical. This is wrong. Really wrong!”

“You’re a good man, Oswald. Ordinarily, being a good human being has its rewards. But not in this Stacy-dominated world. You’re desperate enough. I can see it in those bloodshot eyes of yours. You’ll either have the most romantic night of your life in a McDonald’s parking lot…or you’ll get a lifelong lesson that no sexy-legged teacher could offer you. Either way, I just gave you the keys to the city. It’s up to you now what it is you want to do with them.”

Antero patted Oswald’s back and walked out of sight. The little guy turned his flabbergasted attention back to the gift card. It was so wrong, yet so right at the same time. There was something seductive about the way Antero talked. There was a reason he led so many people down their destined paths. He made so much sense in that one oratory.

Having those dark thoughts jolted Oswald awake, causing him to accidentally drop the gift card on the table. “What the fuck was I thinking?” he asked himself while holding his head in his hands. “I can’t do this. This isn’t right. No, no, no!” The three no’s were punctuated with the dwarf lightly banging his head against the table.

Once the forehead pain became too much to bear, he took a look around the commons for any signs that Antero might be right. Sure enough, this place was swarming with examples. Men and women holding hands while walking together. “Chads” and “Stacys” making out on the grassy lawn. Oswald even saw one guy holding his crying girlfriend’s head in his lap while he stroked her hair. What the lonely dwarf would give for the chance to be touched like that.

That Mickey D’s gift card started him straight in the face with lust and seduction. It was such an easy solution. Antero could have been his savior in that one moment. His own personal Jesus Christ, to use yet another Matrix quote. Oswald finally made the decision to scoop up the gift card and tuck it away in his wallet. If nothing else, he could at least enjoy a good meal, one that made him feel better than any roll of green ever could.

Oswald walked away from the commons huffing and puffing on his roll of weed. He kept feeling his scraggly beard and lengthy hair while contemplating if he should clean himself up for this meeting with a McDonald’s prostitute. Maybe throwing his pot-smelling coat in the wash machine would also be a good idea. Then again, did he really have to change himself for someone who was only in it for the nuggets and the burgers? There was thirty dollars on the card, which meant he could get extra goodies to make himself more enticing. The shave and haircut could wait another day…if that day ever came.

The dwarf put his headsets on and played “Bless the Wings” by The Moody Blues on his MP3 player. Was that song a little too romantic and sappy for what was about to happen that evening? Perhaps. Was Oswald expecting too much when he contemplated a potential relationship with this McDonald’s girl? He thought so. But as long as he was high on pot and already depressed from the day’s events, a little lovey-dovey psychological cinema was perhaps the right call.

Judging from the stares he got from “normies” walking by, any kind of vicarious romance would have been welcome. He certainly didn’t get it from the “Chad” he bumped into when he wasn’t paying attention. Oswald landed right on his ass while the guy said, “Hey, what the hell?!”

The dwarf picked himself up and apologized profusely to the young man and his girlfriend. He thought that would be the end of that, but then he noticed the couple walking away with their noses in their shirts, presumably from the pot smell. Oswald was tempted to go back there and punch the shit out of both of them. But it was more tempting to just take a shower and wash his clothing rather than get himself expelled for stupid shit. Maybe he did have to change himself after all. But for a McDonald’s hooker? So much debating took place in Oswald’s mind, all of which was settled with a few more puffs of Mary-Jane.

Incel Terrorism

***INCEL TERRORISM***

….Guys…we need to talk…we need to talk right fucking now…

I don’t know if anybody has told you this before, but murder, sexism, and rape are all bad things. Well, not just bad things. They’re awful things. They’re horrible things. If you’re an “involuntary celibate” or incel for short, you’re not going to attract women by committing acts of terrorism. In fact, by the time the “revolution against the Chads and Stacies” is over, you will have absolutely nothing you want. You will either be in prison or dead and you still won’t have a girlfriend.

Don’t get me wrong. If anybody gets the frustration of being single, it’s me. Loneliness sucks sometimes. But do you know what sucks even more than that? Being a murderer. Being an online troll. Being an all around negative human being. If you kill somebody else over sexual frustration, there’s no coming back from that. If you post hateful rhetoric online, you lose opportunities and you lose respect. Imagine that! Women actually enjoy being with men who treat them as equals! Wow! What a concept!

And if you think I’m writing all of this just to get laid, well, as Johnny Carson once said, “You’re wrong, ozone killer breath!” I’m writing these words because I don’t like watching murder stories on the evening news. I’m writing these words because every time an incel murder happens, it makes people who actually struggle with shyness look like fools. Murderers aren’t doing a service to anybody. I mean, seriously, are you fighting for love or hate? Do you hate love? Do you love hate? What is it you want?

Do you want to know what I do when I feel lonely? I create art. I draw pictures even though they’re crappy as fuck. I write first draft novels even though by their very definition are also crappy as fuck. I write poetry. I write songs. Loneliness can be a huge motivator for someone who wants to put their psychic energy to good use. Just ask Ricky Nelson, the guy who sang “Lonesome Town”. Just ask the Statler Brothers, who performed “Flowers On the Wall”. Ask Pink Floyd, who wrote such classics as “Hey You” and “Don’t Leave Me Now”, which are both about, you guessed it, loneliness, shyness, and isolation. And don’t give me this weak crap about how you’re not good at creating art, therefore you won’t do it. Everybody starts somewhere! Stephen King didn’t come out of the womb writing bestsellers. He worked at it! If you work at your craft, you might be surprised by how therapeutic it is.

If you need something a little more immediate than art, then I’ve got two words for you: Porn Hub. If you can dream it up, you’ll find it on Porn Hub, guaranteed. For instance, if you want to find a video of two lesbians scissoring each other while wearing diapers, it’s there. Wow! If you want to find a video of Tifa Lockhart from Final Fantasy VII giving an unknown man a blowjob, it’s right fucking there. Holy shit! If you want to watch a chick give her stepbrother a foot job, by all means, go for it. It’s right fucking there! All you need is a computer and some privacy. Make sure your door is locked and your shade is drawn. Hell, you can do what Billy Connolly does and pile furniture against the door. But believe it or not, visiting Porn Hub for a night of fun is actually an option! While it doesn’t provide the same intimate feeling as a full-on relationship, it’ll tide you over until then. Don’t believe me? Ask The Who, a band that performed a song about jerking off called “Pictures of Lily”. Wow!

And speaking of music, did you know that listening to it can provide a channel for your raw emotions? Holy shit! Where did this factoid come from?! If you’re angry, you can listen to “Fucking Hostile” by Pantera, a band fronted by a guy named Phil who’s pissed off at EVERYTHING! Or maybe you’re feeling a little more romantic and you want something lighter. No problem, just look up a song by Spandau Ballet called “True”. Or you just want to relax and forget about it all. May I suggest “Inamorata” by David Arkenstone and Charlee Brooks. Music is a drug more powerful than cocaine and more philosophical than weed. Try it!

My point is, there are lots of channels for your broken heart and violence sure as shit isn’t one of them. Be nice to the women in your life and they’ll be nice to you. Treat them like shit and you’ll be treated like shit as well. This is not the Middle Ages anymore. You actually have to treat the world with the same respect you want to be treated with. Progressive change is a function of time. The more we learn, the more we put those lessons into action. You want to be loved? Then show some love yourself.

And when you show that love, don’t do it with the end game of getting laid. Do it because you’re a good human being and you’re better than the murderers and rapists of the world. I assure you that there are more important things in life than getting your junk greased, and this is coming from a guy who openly admits to being a 32-year-old virgin. Yes, loneliness sucks from time to time, but it doesn’t have to dominate your thoughts like a schizophrenic ghost. And on the day that you’re told “no” by a beautiful woman, listen to her and walk the fuck away. I’m Garrison fucking Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!

Why Won't You Love Me?

VERSE 1

An autograph for your necrograph

Yet you turn away and belly laugh

Tell the world I’m damaged goods

I’m a psycho hiding out in the woods

Imagination short circuited by pills

Wasted potential killed off by the ills

Scandalous past kicking my own ass

The quiet one in the back of the class

CHORUS

Why won’t you love me?

Why do you shove me?

Enough room in my heart for an army

Even for the ones who try to harm me

Why won’t you love me?

You’re so high above me

Enough room in my mind for a choir

Love me or leave me, down to the wire

VERSE 2

Jealousy is a sincere form of flattery

Exclusion is a real form of battery

Failure is the true root of all agony

Suffering is the beginning of tragedy

I see you flying like a golden angel

My wings are bent at a funny angle

I’ll see you on the bottom of the barrel

I’ll find you when I’m lonely and feral

CHORUS

Why won’t you love me?

Why do you shove me?

Enough room in my heart for an army

Even for the ones who try to harm me

Why won’t you love me?

You’re so high above me

Enough room in my mind for a choir

Love me or leave me, down to the wire

VERSE 3

My passion won’t allow me to let go

My anxiety won’t allow me to know

The answer to this riddle called life

No matter how I hard I fucking try

They tell me to be patient and wait

Until the day I’m at the pearly gates

Work harder than I’ve ever worked

Until I blow a fuse and go berserk

PRE-CHORUS

Why won’t you love me?

Why won’t you care?

Why do the masses

Give me a blank stare?

Why won’t you love me?

Why won’t you join me?

Could my cries for help

Be that fucking annoying?

CHORUS

Why won’t you love me?

Why do you shove me?

Enough room in my heart for an army

Even for the ones who try to harm me

Why won’t you love me?

You’re so high above me

Enough room in my mind for a choir

Love me or leave me, down to the wire

El Divorcio

VERSE 1

Is this the life you really want?

Is it worth the price of the ring you bought?

Is it worth the senseless fights?

Do you have to do this every night?

Starting arguments for the hell of it

Your rage and tears are irrelevant

Does any part of you want to break up?

Is it time to dry your eyes and wake up?

CHORUS

El divorcio, el divorcio

It’s all over forever and now

El divorcio, el divorcio

There is nothing to smile about

No more holding hands in public

No more kisses that are sudden

No more passionate love making

When your heart is breaking

VERSE 2

Who was right or wrong all along?

Who’s to blame for this sorrowful song?

Lawyers and judges get to decide

Who gets the gold, who gets the hearse ride

The tiring war goes on for months

It soon turns into a bounty hunt

Is this the result you really need?

Surrendering to aggravated greed?

CHORUS

El divorcio, el divorcio

It’s all over forever and now

El divorcio, el divorcio

There is nothing to smile about

No more holding hands in public

No more kisses that are sudden

No more passionate love making

When your heart is breaking

VERSE 3

Is it too late to start over again?

A newfound lover or just a friend?

A shattered dream to mend with gold?

Another soft hand to gently hold?

Is it too late to turn back the clock?

Find a shoulder to cry on and be your rock?

Are you your own hero? Can you save the day?

Or will you forever push the masses away?

BRIDGE

It’s not over until you say it’s over

Don’t be afraid to pull her closer

Don’t be afraid to say you’re sorry

Let’s start again, my precious darling

Valentine's Day

***VALENTINE’S DAY***

Valentine’s Day is now in our rearview mirrors and for many single people out there, that’s a good thing. They like to call it Singles Awareness Day because they don’t have anybody to share their special day with. I used to be just as angry and bitter about it as anyone else who hated this holiday. And then when this year’s Valentine’s Day came and went, I realized something important for coping with future February 14^th holidays.

How is this day different from any other? It doesn’t have the magic and joy of Christmas. It doesn’t have the dark fantasy charisma of Halloween. It doesn’t have the food devouring of Thanksgiving. It’s just a normal day of the year. Yes, it’s love themed and there are a lot of chocolates and candy available. But if it’s sweet treats you want, get a pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups at your local convenience store. If you want a stuffed teddy bear, buy one on Amazon any other day of the year. If you’re in a relationship and you have to wait until February 14^th to get some true romance in, there’s something wrong with your chemistry. To my way of thinking, celebrating romance one day a year is like celebrating any other mundane activity whether it’s doing laundry, washing dishes, or going to work.

Would you like to take any guesses as to how I spent my Valentine’s Day? I can tell you that it wasn’t anything like last year where I ate my sorrows away with a large Pizza Hut pizza. Sure, my “heavy metal of the day” on Face Book was “This Love” by Pantera, but that’s not the point. I spent February 14^th doing laundry, not only my own, but also my parents’. My parents are Baby Boomers who can’t climb the steps as fast as they used to, so they rely on me to ferry clothes up to the garage to wash and dry them. Not only do we now have fresh laundry, but my mom has gained a lot of appreciation for having me around the house (not that she didn’t already have it to begin with). In between doing loads of my parents’ laundry, I watched WWE Smackdown and ate take-out sushi that my brother James brought home.

I find as I get older that I appreciate low-key events more often. I like low-key holidays, low-key vacations, and low-key concerts. Yes, most of the concerts I go to are heavy metal and hard rock, but instead of getting fucked up in the mosh pit, I take a seat in the bleachers. Sitting down between bands is easy on my legs, which is why I can no longer attend shows at the Showbox venues in Seattle or Studio 7 in the same city: they don’t have chairs. I even asked if I could bring my own beanbag chair to the Showbox and though the nice lady agreed I should be able to do that, they can’t accommodate me in that department. At 31-years-old and tipping the scale in the 300 district, I have to start thinking low-key, which includes being in a neutral mood on Valentine’s Day.

It’s funny, because I posted a synopsis in my folder at the WSS about a short story dealing with Valentine’s Day in a negative light. The story would have been called “I Don’t Believe In Love” and would be about a theater student doing a passionate monologue on how exclusive the holiday is. Instead of writing that short story, I wrote a chapter of Demon Axe where Daniel Mercer a.k.a. The Lord of the Pit was tortured with his own genre of music. Great stuff, huh? It’s like something out of A Clockwork Orange. Or it could be like Tales From the Hood with fully-clothed characters.

The only Valentine’s Day thing I really did was buy a gift for my beta reader Marie Krepps. I brag about her every chance I get, so it’s only natural that I get her something nice from her Amazon wish list. In a way, she could be my valentine despite the fact that she’s already married with four lovely daughters. Then again, valentines don’t have to necessarily be love interests. One year I had my black cat Pete as my valentine. Pete has since passed on to the Rainbow Bridge. But goddamn, he was a sweet little valentine!

Depending on whom you are or what your circumstances entail, Valentine’s Day can either be the happiest day of your life or the most miserable. If you like this holiday, more power to you and I wish you infinite happiness. If you hate this holiday with a passion, you don’t have to. If you’re really that starved for romantic affection, masturbate to some sexy You Tube videos. That’s what I did one year and those endorphins came rushing in like…well, you see where I’m going with this. But if masturbating isn’t your thing, then find some way to occupy your time. As long as your mind and spirit are busy with something to do, Valentine’s Day will be just as neutral to you as it is to me.

We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***DEMON AXE, CHAPTER 15***

I’m getting closer and closer to the end of this first draft novel and I couldn’t be more excited! Chapter fifteen will start off with Daniel being released from his straps and knocking down the door to his room by bellowing into his microphone. Seems like a nice way to begin a chapter as far as I’m concerned, especially considering how Daniel Mercer has been easily-triggered throughout the whole story. He realizes how much responsibility he has on his shoulders and will now take this quest against Roger seriously. Or to put it in his oh-so-lovely terms, “Let’s fuck shit up!”

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

I have to be honest with you guys for a minute. I haven’t been writing as many Poison Tongue Tales 2 short stories lately, which means my character roster for the Dark Fantasy Warriors series is rapidly depleting. The next one on the chopping block will be Marco Said from “Staple Gun Gangster”, but after that, here are all the characters I have left:

1. Bear Man, Human Bassist (Demon Axe)
2. Dijas Kai, Lion Samurai (Screw the Zoo)
3. Scott Percival, Cyborg Soldier (Shield Me)
4. Seven, Undead Prophet (The Theomancer)
5. Sonia Marquez, Human Mixed-Martial Artist (Demon Axe)

Your eyes do not deceive you. After Marco Said, there will only be five Dark Fantasy Warriors left, which will be just enough to complete my 100 Characters Meme by the time they’re finished. In this case, the meme will be used for drawings that I’ve done in color, which dates back to early 2016 (the year of death). I know doing Deviant Art memes isn’t the most exciting thing one can do with his or her time, but to my way of thinking, this will be my way of celebrating a milestone.

***CYBORGS AND SORCERY***

About a week ago, Marie Krepps asked me to beta read four short stories of hers which will ultimately be part of a published collection called Cyborgs and Sorcery. I’ve gotten through her two longest stories and she seemed happy with my snarky critiques. The next two stories are only three or four pages long, give or take, so on the day of my choosing I can blow through both of them and write a passing grade review for the collection the same day.

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: What did Avril Lavigne say to Bullwinkle?

A: Hey, hey! You, you! I don’t like your squirrel friend!

Quicksand Dance Floor

VERSE 1

When you stand next to her, you start to shiver

You feel the coldness of a raging white river

You feel the illness of a rollercoaster rider

You feel the depression, you’re sick and tired

Shrug it off; it’s just a first world problem

You and the world have nothing in common

Put it in perspective, because it works every time

Ignore the heartache and the tears in your eyes

CHORUS 1

This is your life for the next thirty years

This is your sadness for the next hundred tears

Welcome to the quicksand dance floor, my friend

You lost your soul to a coming of age trend

VERSE 2

You missed your chance to be a bona fide stud

Now everyone is laughing at you like Elmer Fudd

Dante could never survive this brutal comedy

You could never survive this mental sodomy

You kick yourself repeatedly for never being brave

To your own disaster, you are the humble slave

Don’t worry, you wouldn’t want her anyways

She’ll scream in your ear every night and every day

CHORUS 2

This is your life until you’re old and cold

You always did as your detractors told

Welcome to the quicksand dance floor, old man

The corner is there, do something with your hands

BRIDGE

It’s too late to take her hand

It’s too late to join her band

It’s too late to rise from the sand

Your magnum opus was critically panned

VERSE 3

Turn back the clock to the very last hour

Before you kicked the bouquet and became sour

A simple question for the lovely lady

Yes or no? You could settle for maybe

CHORUS 3

This is your life with your newfound wife

You’re wearing a suit, she’s wearing white

Turn your back to the quicksand dance floor

Run wild and free while asking for more