First of all, let me just make one thing clear; nobody gives a fuck about how you feel. Everyone’s life sucks sometimes. Also, crying is for girls and Super Bowl losers (the Colts this year).
We all know one of these folks that are referred to by the free-thinking populace as “Emos”. Even myself, the rogue pirate ninja who sleeps standing up and only eats broken glass, has a few emo acquaintances. I don’t bring them in public with me and would never bring them around females, but I do know them. Sad, yes, but it is becoming a fact of life for far too many of us.
These are the people who show up with fresh cuts on their wrists like it was somehow cool. I mean seriously, what kind of an attention seeking asshole fucks up while trying to do the simple task of just killing themselves? One suicide attempt should be enough for anyone to get the job done. Next time, why not go up the road instead of across the street and do the world a big favor?
Is it just me, or am I the only one who notices that these rotten bastards are always rich kids with two parents and nice things? I mean, I can see how some people's lives just suck. You know, the kids in Africa who don’t eat, the little girls in Asia who get raped daily, guys who just lost their wife and kids in a car accident. Those people have a reason to kill themselves. Just because your parents, or someone else in your life, didn’t “understand” you, that is no reason to try to make the lives of those around you miserable with your shitty “the world hates me” attitude.
We all have a story about one of these sorry bastards, and now I shall tell mine. There were four of us who lived in a two story house a few summers ago and we liked to party. There was an emo amongst us, who we shall call Kyle (The real Kyle is not an emo, but the type of pirate ninja who will steal your girlfriend’s panties and run around the party waving them like a god damn flag. This is just a pseudonym).
Anyway, the rest of us were upstairs drinking large glasses of beer and fully enjoying the festivities at hand. There were plenty of women and everything was good. All of a sudden I noticed that the women were disappearing. After inquiring a passing drunk about where the fuck all the bitches went, I learned that Kyle was in the basement trying to kill himself; all the women were down there trying to talk him out of it. Needless to say, I went down to investigate.
I get down to the basement to find this fuck, with a shit eating grin on his face, six or seven girls around him trying to console him, and a butcher knife in his hand. Of course the first words out of my mouth were “What the fuck?!” He proceeded to explain that he just wasn’t happy with his life and was feeling suicidal. I responded by sending the women folk upstairs, taking the knife from him, and threatening the fucker with a right good kicking if he didn’t stop hogging all the bitches. It is amazing how a promise of violence, as opposed to an empty threat of suicide, can make one of these emo shits change their tune right away.
The moral of this story is this: Emos need the shit beat out of them. If you are one of these emo fucks, the next time you want to kill yourself take a dive off a skyscraper instead of a bottle of sleeping pills. Do it right. Otherwise, in the immortal words of Eddie Murphy, have a Coke and a smile and shut the fuck up.
