I hate trends. Stupid temporary obsessions that captivate--as in, entrap--the minds of youngsters and fill them with the desire to buy the most bombastic version of whatever and be as over-the-top about their support of the latest stupid piece of shit object or idea or clothing line or musical genre, and mock anyone who doesn't support said trend.
I hate trends.
But unfortunatly for people like me, it is becoming trendy to be ANTI-TREND. Which means you have to watch your step about what you wear and what you say, in fear of someone pointing out how oh-so trendy you are. One of the worst parts about trendy anti-trends is that they die quicker than regular trends. So the other anti-trend trendy people always mock you if you're still wearing the horn-rimmed glasses everyone and their coffee-slurping grandmother was wearing last week.
Hell, I got accosted by one such person when I used the word "counter-culture" in reference to the underground electronic magazine that Mr. Evil and I are producing, burn this magazine.
"Don't say that."
"I never hear it."
Does anyone else see what is wrong with this picture? Counter-culture stands for everything that is anything BUT trendy. And somehow its meaning got mixed up in the flury to be the next person to point out how completely trendy someone is being. I can't even walk into a coffee shop without every one of those neo-Nirvana fucks staring me down trying to decide if I'm a poseur or not. JESUS CHRIST, PEOPLE! I JUST WANT SOME COFFEE AND TO CHECK OUT THAT GIRL WITH THE TATTOO SLEEVES THAT LOOKS LIKE CARRIE-ANNE MOSS IN "MEMENTO"!!!!!!!
What the fuck is WRONG with people? I realize its part of human nature to classify things and believe that we are the only ones with the right answers. That's the bitch of being a "reasoning" creature. But seriously, people. You shouldn't have to think about what people are gonna say if you aren't trying hard enough to be YOURSELF.
There's a guy where I work named Charles Gambino. Charles is the cliche Brooklyn Italian. That's why I love him. the guy rocks. He'll walk in the room when I'm not talking, tell me to "Shut the fuck up," and walk out the other door. He'll threaten to slap me. He mocks the hell out of me.
He likes me a lot. :D
He told me a story once about how he was having a shitty day, and was driving home and talking to his wife on a cell phone. He told her that the only way this day could be really really great was if he ran over something beautiful. And just as he hung up the phone
He stopped the car and went back to what he had run over. It was a squirell. Its head was smushed and it was runnin around in circles. And then it just fell over. Ppppppfffftttt. Dead.
He called his wife and said, "I'm havin a great fuckin day."
Moral: If you're gonna hit something, it better be something beautiful and it better be bloody afterwards.
Charles is a real charmer.
In the latest issue of "Deadpool" (number 68) he begs someone to kill him, rants about peanut pornography, drives through one skyscraper window in his 100% Manly scooterbike and crashes into another skyscraper window, procedes to kick ass, starts from the top, and ties a guy's shoelaces together and kicks him out the window.
I love this guy.
And I love Fench bread.
Mr. Evil is on a date. He thinks he's ssoooooo much better, now. Well FUCK HIM IN HIS BIG SWOLLEN DATING ASSHOLE!!!!
I really need to meet some girls. The brooding over heartbreak shit sucks major ass.
And I'd kill to have sex with an anime girl. Like literally, an ainme girl. A cartoon.
but then again, I don't think the animators would appreciate that.
I tried renting a bunch of movies today. But she wouldn't let me, despite how I'd rented there twice before. So I set her on fire.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEH AHAHEH HEHEH Ha heheh haheheh heheh aheh heh hheeehhhh......
Okay. So maybe I just ran over a squirrel on the way home.
The all too trendy,