Who invited you to say…anything?

You’re still here?  Go away!  Go.

I’ve had it about up to here!  That’s where I AM!

What’s wrong with being left alone?

Seriously...go away.

This is the post which says go away.

Sure, it invites you in to read…but it’s just a plea.  In general, I’m a cynical prick.  I’m rather pessimistic about the state of humanity.  I’ve also rarely been disappointed when trying to foretell the baseness of humanity and the depths to which we’ll try to appear in the media.  Call me a humbug.

But wouldn’t being around these extroverted euro-trashy types make you want to puke?

And puke into your soup at that?

Apparently, according to my meager MSPaint skills, only white people are extroverts…so now I am a racist too.


But there is nothing which makes me more sick than a bunch of yelling, pleading, self-centered pricks who’s only goal in life is to out “Glee” one another.

Here’s a bit – I was working in downtown Chicago at a massive meat market in Wrigleyville; I was the DJ who spun the tunes.  A meat market is not a place to pick up some chops, it’s a bar where well-scrubbed white people go to “hook-up”.  There’s another phrase which makes my spine quiver with evil.  So, these colossally annoying, yuppie-perverts gather together to watch the Cubs lose.   They’ll start by drinking around 11A (beer, it’s always beer), then they jet out to catch the 1:20P start where, in the full glare of the sun, they will cavort and drink more beer.

Hot sun + Beer = incredibly drunk people.  Correction, incredibly annoying and drunk people.

One fine Saturday a very famous TV network hits our bar.  The bar patrons LOSE THEIR FREAKIN’ MINDS.  They’re yelling and screaming while pogo-ing to get on camera.  Even the poseur, macho child-men are taking off their shirts to show the manliness.

And there I am, Mr. Quiet Weirdy-Weirderson just trying to get people to dance and eat.  I end up getting punched out (longer story) and barfed on.  Ok…so they didn’t barf on me, but three hours of sun and beer equals a great case of the barfs in general.

“Thank you ma’am, the chicken sandwich looked much more appetizing on the way down.  Please pass out so this rutting fool behind you can take you back to your apartment and rape you senseless.  Oh, you’re already senseless?  Well then, have at it young man!”

Anyway, I loved being a DJ.  I was content because I was able to watch the people dance at a distance.  I had this lovely door, which could be locked, and a nice window which was just high enough to so that most people had to jump in order to look in it.  So I was able to work, watch and be left-the-hell alone.

And I was good at it too!  I was a great DJ.  I could get the whole joint rockin’, dancing and spinning!  Then I’d slow it down a bit so that everybody would go grab a drink and a bite to eat and then, BANG!  Right back to the frolicking.  I had a ball!  And I was REALLY good at it too.

Sure, I never got any action, but I still recall good times.

But this brings me to today’s point:

But I’m NOT SHY.  I’ve been on TV, Radio, stage, etc.  I was part of an excellent improv group in Chicago and we kicked ass!

But, and here’s the important part, when I go off by myself, don’t tell me that I’m a horrible person who needs to “get back out there”.  Really, I’m doing just fine on my own.  I just need a break from the constant full-court-press of humanity.

I have kids now and I generally let them be.  Yes, they need direction.  But once off on their own, finding their best direction, they’ll probably turn out just fine.  I give them the opportunity to go off on their own and find their own joy.

What I need is solitude.  I need to be left the hell alone to recharge my batteries.

For every asshole Cubs fan who needs to point and preen, there’s a quiet, retiring type who’s much more comfortable reading or thinking OR, most likely, observing all the drunkards.  It makes us feel superior.

Did you ever wonder who records all the YouTube.com videos?  It’s not the dope doing the stunt.  It’s their quiet friend who suggests, “uh, maybe you should have a mat below you.”  You know, that guy…or girl.

However, the US is in the midst of this curious sensation where, generally speaking, the theory is, “unless you’re out there (TV, Web, Radio, etc.) then you’re a nobody.”  This is what makes the concept of reality TV so enticing to folks.  There is little talent needed to appear on these shows.  So they’ll just put any dingus up there in front of the camera.

This leaves the introvert further behind the social curve and the extrovert even more in your face – odious.

What I’m hoping is that we can put about 25 million of these people in Florida and then firebomb the whole thing.  From the Keys to the Georgia border.  Just firebomb these mutants and raise the national average IQ by 23%.

To prove my point…I give you Ms. South Carolina:

CHRIST OH MIGHTY ON A POPSICLE STICK!  Where’s your sense of pride?  Where’s your freakin’ brain?  And I’m not saying that to feel superior, I’m actually concerned that this person lacks brain mass.  Enough so that breathing function is maintained but after that…ZIPPO!

I pray to our alien overlords.  LORDS…HEAR MY PRAYER!!!

As you watch our video transmissions from space, I would ask that you realize that those on publicly accessible media comprise no more than 3% of the population.  We apologize for their ignorance and offer them up as tribute to you.  We only ask that you treat these people with the honor that they deserve…like the Myans.

Cut out their heart, hold it above your head and scream for the heads of your enemies.

I feel better now:


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