Serial Contrarian

VERSE 1: SERIAL CONTRARIAN

Listen up, my opinions are the only ones worth having

I’m taking off the kid gloves, we don’t need the extra padding

Your favorite show sucks, it only made a hundred bucks

Your favorite album’s trash, it’s not worth the change and cash

Your favorite food is ass, it takes a million years to pass

World’s first anal stone, it’ll break your tailbone

You can’t walk away from a friendly debate

Or else you’re the one who’s fascist and full of all the hate

 

CHORUS 1: ME

Serial contrarians are no different from the Aryans

We can’t have nice things, ‘cause we’re ruled by kings

Can’t I have five minutes where you shut the fuck up?

I’d probably get five seconds with my kind of luck

 

VERSE 2: SERIAL CONTRARIAN

Audiobooks don’t count, because you can’t see the words

They’re like campfire stories, in case you haven’t heard

I’m not trying to be ableist, that’s why I like AI

‘Cause we all know the dunderheads never score high

 

CHORUS 2: ME

Serial contrarians are filled up with arrogance

Just leave my stuff alone, ‘cause it’s where I call home

Can’t I have a moment so that I can sit and think?

I’m just buying time until you push me to the brink

 

VERSE 3: SERIAL CONTRARIAN

Unpack your bags and get out of the Uber

Did you forget that I’m famous and a powerful YouTuber?

If you break up with me, you violate the First Amendment

Court of public opinion, you’re the obvious defendant

I’ll make a thousand hit pieces and rack up ad money

Until you come back, kiss my cheek, call me honey

You’re more likely to come packing a loaded 45

I brushed up on Algospeak, now my ass is unalived

 

CHORUS 3: ME

Serial contrarians are just techno-libertarians

And now they’re all cancelled for being big assholes

They’ll never change their ways, so it’s time to walk away

With my head held high as I flip the bird goodbye

Serial contrarians are ripping out their hair again

They can keep from turning pink if they’d just see a shrink

But therapy is heresy, at least that’s what they’ll say

So they walk among the sheep and let out a loud bray

Lars Sullivan: Another Ex-WWE Loser Trying to Get Back in the Spotlight by Saying Stupid Shit Online

 

Mike Sempervive from F4WOnline vs. Drake Wuertz from Parts Unknown...and Let's Keep it That Way

 

Paige Layle from TikTok vs. Adam Carolla from The Man Show: Dodging Accountability Like Alimony Payments

 

Matthew Israel: Executioner, I Mean, Executive at the JRC

 

Fitness Guru

INTRO DIALOGUE

You’re not a fitness guru; you’re a eugenicist!

 

SATIRE POEM

I make my salary by burning all my calories

Showing off my ribs, telling fatphobic fibs

Juicing up my biceps, overworking triceps

Got some ten-pack abs, not pinch of flab

 

Why stop there? Let’s erase your autism

And your personality that you got with it

Sell stories about your expendability

Based on corporate greed and your disability

 

“Don’t even bother with the COVID vaccine”

Said the pin cushion who was a heroin fiend

You believe every word, just look at my face

Innocent like an angel from the “Master Race”

 

Take my advice, pay no mind to my voice

What disease do I have? It’s Dealer’s Choice

I never smoked a cigarette a day in my life

Still sounds like I wear a Columbian Necktie

 

I got more wrinkles than crumpled up paper

It started as a baby and I hoped it would taper

Started in the womb, wait, now I remember

I was totally alive then, like Jesus in December

 

Now I got a job fucking up my last name

Drag it through the mud, make it take a walk of shame

Black sheep doesn’t describe me at all

‘Cause if I lived on a farm, my voters would suck my balls

 

So next time you see me on the television

Listen loud and clear, ‘cause there is no intermission

No bathroom breaks even though I’m full of shit

Here’s my healthcare plan, it’s a total money pit

Government efficiency is kind of my jam

Effective at what? Making suckers fall for scams?

Fork over your dough as you die really slow

Make the oligarchy richer, fuck the Average Joe!

inspirational Porn Star

VERSE 1

I was born with one finger, no other body parts

My cancer cell count was off the fucking charts

I got run over by a Karen and her shopping cart

Left to bleed and break on the floor of Wal-Mart

But I kept pushing on, as cliché as that sounds

I can now bench press a thousand fucking pounds

A got a hot wife, hot life, and a new sports car

You call me lucky; I’m an inspirational porn star

VERSE 2

I was born with a negative bank account balance

A million dollar debt to a loan shark in Dallas

The streets were the place where I slept and shit

Not in that order, but the timeline still fits

I kept soldiering on, got a college education

Got a bunch of D-pluses at my graduation

It’s clearly your fault if you don’t go far

Not mine; I’m an inspirational porn star

VERSE 3

I never once took a check from the welfare office

Never once begged the forces of evil to stop it

I’m so tough I floss my teeth with barbed wire

Wipe my ass with sandpaper ‘til it burns like fire

Shave my face with a chainsaw until I’m raw

Clip my nails with a shark’s disembodied jaw

If I can do it, you have no reason not to start

Your lifelong journey, be an inspirational porn star

VERSE 4

Of course you all know that I’m full of shit

Only a bunch of sheep believe my rhetoric

Everything has nuance, even life itself

Not as easy as a bible on a library shelf

Not as easy as watching a You Tube video

Not as easy as imagining a new scenario

I want more for me, so I move the goal post

Inspirational porn stars are just hollow boasts

The Dwarf with Bad Aim

When I was an edgy little shithead during my pre-teen and teenage years, I laughed my ass off at Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles jokes. The cheese grater was the best book they’ve ever read. The fastest thing to go on land was their speedboats. The best way to torture them is to rearrange the furniture. Get it? Because they’re blind? Oh-ho-ho-ho! Blindness is so funny, isn’t it? You know who probably wouldn’t think those jokes are funny? The level one dwarf fighter I played as during a D&D campaign in the 90’s. I don’t remember a whole lot about that campaign, so the details might be a little fuzzy. Hell, I don’t even remember the dwarf’s name. Let’s call him Clark. Not very fantasy-like, but fuck it, I’m calling him Clark anyways because I like the name Clark.

So why is it that a level one dwarf fighter named Clark wouldn’t have a sense of humor about blindness jokes? It’s not like he’s blind himself. He could surely set his empathy aside for a few chuckles, right? Well, not exactly. He could see just fine, but you wouldn’t know that from how often he missed his enemies during combat situations. He had this hulking battleaxe that could rip any monster to shreds. The original Axe Body Spray could have been Clark slashing a poor son of a bitch goblin in half…emphases on could have been.

The campaign was DMed by my brother James and played by me and his friends Nathan and Chris. I don’t remember their characters or their names. I don’t remember what the name of the campaign was (it was pre-written by Wizards of the Coast). All I remember about the campaign is that it used to be really popular among D&D nerds in the 90’s. The players had to transport a prisoner to the gallows only to find out that an elf thief was a mole in the group all along. Now the end goal is to send them both to the guillotine. There would be our fair share of obstacles along the way, all of which required Clark and his comrades to swing their weapons and actually hit something for a change. Nathan and Chris’s characters hit their targets with a sniper’s precision. Clark? Not so much.

The first battle during this prisoner transport was already underway with some bandits wanting to steal our riches. Clark had the opportunity to swing his axe and shed some blood all over the forest’s most beautiful features. He swung his axe…and missed. He swung again…and missed. He swung yet again…and missed. Nathan and Chris’s characters picked up Clark’s slack and left the bandits’ corpses stacked a mile high. And then we encountered some gnomes with a broken down war machine. The gnomes naturally blamed us for their misfortune and attacked right away. Clark swung his axe…and missed. He swung again…and missed. I put the twenty-sided die in my mouth and spit it out hoping it would improve the result. Not only did Clark miss again, but I got chewed out for being weird and getting saliva on the dice.

There were many battles to be fought whether it was with knights, mages, or the prisoners themselves. The story was the same: Clark swung his axe and missed horribly. There was even a time when I rolled a nat-one and had to skip an extra turn to pick up my weapon again. Nathan and Chris’s characters did the heavy lifting for me and laid waste to our enemies. Yada, yada, yada, the prisoners were executed and everything was happy in fantasy land. By the time the campaign ended, I had tears in my eyes due to how poorly Clark performed in battle. Every swing he took, he missed like a bitch. He let his team down, though his teammates didn’t show any hint of anger at him. But Clark knew he deserved their scorn if they had any. He was just extra weight freeloading experience points from their labor. As the tears poured from my eyes, I bemoaned the fact that I wouldn’t get any experience points. But James gave me some anyways, though I didn’t do anything significant to deserve them.

Because this was the 90’s and wisdom wasn’t my strong suit at the time, I didn’t see an opportunity for a compelling story when it came to Clark’s misfortune. All I saw was a series of misses. It wouldn’t be acceptable in a game of Final Fantasy IV or Chrono Trigger, because that’s how your characters die. But Clark lived through it all. He leeched off of his friends and never once paid them back. If there was a story to be had there, my younger self couldn’t see it and no, that’s not a blindness joke.

So…now that everything happened and Clark is a broken man, where does he go from here? As a wiser storyteller than I was in the 90’s, I see many angles this can take. Obviously, Clark is overwhelmed with guilt. But how does he handle it? Does he train harder and get better? Does he use his pay from the campaign to sign up for fighting classes? Does he push himself beyond what he’s capable of and jeopardize his health? 

Or does he let the guilt take a stronger hold of him and instead of using it as inspiration, he uses it as an excuse to quit. Maybe Clark retires from adventuring altogether. Maybe he spends his money on alcohol to silence his guilty conscience. Maybe he meets a woman who finds him attractive, but he pushes her away because he “can’t satisfy her”. Ever hear the phrase “those who can’t do, teach?” What if Clark feels so guilty that he thinks he would suck as a teacher as well as a real-world fighter?

What you have to remember as a D&D player is that this is a story above all else. It’s more than just swinging axes, casting spells, and slaying dragons. Everything is an opportunity for a story. And when your characters go through those stories with newfound experience, they, you guessed it, gain experience points. And then those characters develop into three-dimensional people. They feel real despite the fact that they’re in a fantasy setting. They feel human despite being a dwarf, elf, or orc. They have thoughts, opinions, dreams, ambitions, and goals. Sometimes those goals are self-destructive, sometimes they reach beyond the cosmos. The more you develop your story and your characters, the more invested you and your audience will become. If you only care about your misses and failures, that’s all your audience will care about as well.

Everything has a story behind it whether you see it or not, even the ordinary aspects of life. That bookshelf you’ve got in your room? It has seen a lot during its time. It was crafted by creative hands. It’s had many owners who used it for purposes other than storing books. It’s collected dust and formed cracks in the wood and paint. There will be a day when your bookshelf breaks down completely and has to spend its final days in a landfill somewhere. Or the wood from the shelves could be refashioned into something else like a nightstand or even firewood for a camping trip. If an ordinary bookshelf can have this much of a story behind it, so can Clark. But Clark is not an inanimate object. He’s a person with thoughts and feelings. How he deals with his thoughts and feelings is what will determine how three-dimensional he really is. Okay, Clark, so you missed all of your shots and let your teammates down. What will you do next? That’s a story very much worth telling.

But maybe Clark can’t do a whole lot anymore because he really is going blind. Maybe it’s time for him to put down the axe before he hurts someone he didn’t intend to. Maybe he has to spend his time in a home for disabled dwarves. But then Clark has to deal with ableism and people who whine about how their tax money is being spent. If the aggression against him gets so bad, he might have to pick up his axe again to defend himself. But he’ll have help from that woman who found him attractive. She’ll guide his every step and he’ll get progressively better at swinging his axe and murdering ableist assholes. And then…he’ll believe in himself again. His self-esteem will grant him the willingness to marry that woman and start a family with her. And just like that…you have a compelling, three-dimensional story about Clark a.k.a. The Dwarf with Bad Aim!

Psychophobia

VERSE 1
“You haven’t helped out society as of late”
I’d rather give nothing than a firestorm of hate
You blame the disabled for all of your problems
You blame the tax code for draining your wallet
You’re as bigoted as the evil men in white hoods
Talk about society? You’re no fucking good
Look into the mirror when you cast your stones
In your house of glass and your throne of bones


CHORUS
White hoods, green suits, black battle boots
Your retard jokes suck and they’re far from cute
Psychophobia is as real as it fucking gets
Yet you’re the one who is fucked up in the head


VERSE 2
A big paycheck goes to the kid with autism
Your hatred and anger creates the wrong schism
Medical visits for the man with schizophrenia
A new liberalism for the new millennium
Comfort and love for the chick with depression
This is when you show your worst aggression
The tea bag is a symbol of ableist ignorance
Paying income tax turns mice into militants


CHORUS
White hoods, green suits, black battle boots
Your retard jokes suck and they’re far from cute
Psychophobia is as real as it fucking gets
Yet you’re the one who is fucked up in the head


VERSE 3
Bullies and criminals come in all shapes and sizes
Injecting their venom into the hearts of the wisest
Keeping people down while you still climb higher
Aiming your pistol and then squeezing to fire
You know nothing about what the fuck it’s like
To be eaten alive by the demons inside
I’ll take my handouts and swallow my pills
While you continue to bitch about the bills


EXTENDED CHORUS
White hoods, green suits, black battle boots
Your retard jokes suck and they’re far from cute
Psychophobia is as real as it fucking gets
Yet you’re the one who is fucked up in the head
Let’s fit your ass for a warm straightjacket
Keep you in the darkness of a cell that’s padded
All that “free shit” sounds pretty damn good, right?
Think about that and have yourself a good night