Special Interest

This town sucks and everyone is lame except for me and my friends

You know, this would be a great place to live if it wasn’t for all the people. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got a few good friends who make living in this shitty town okay. They are really exceptional at drinking, smoking, and playing video games. I don’t know what I’d do without them. It’s too bad that me and my small group of friends are the ONLY cool people around. It’s all that keeps me from committing suicide.

There’s literally nothing happening except for lame events with lame people. I need to get out of this town and forget that it ever existed. Sometimes it seems like everyone who lives here has a mental problem. There’s something in the water.  Not only that, but all the girls here are so fat! This must be the fattest town in the world. I could move anywhere in the world and the women, no matter how ugly, would invariably be more fit for intercourse. The handful of girls attractive enough for sex are all married. Fuck this town, it is the reason I can’t get laid!

I go on Facebook all the time to tell everyone how much this place sucks. I hope all my friends on Facebook will move with me somewhere exciting like Miami or Hollywood. That’s where it’s at. Something’s always happening there, I know it.

You know, I’m sure that my art career will take off as soon as I go somewhere else. This small town is stifling my creativity. It is as if a cloud of fear hovers above the valley, smothering all the life out of it. My band, also, is not doing that well because of this town. No one here appreciates music or art at all, and if they do, they’re not willing to throw money at me for being so great. If it wasn’t for this damn town, I’d already be rich and famous!

One day I’m going to pack up, leave this town, and forget it ever existed. I will be the most famous person to ever come from this shit-town. I’m so much better than this town, and it’s all the other people’s fault that my life sucks!




Libya, the last bastion of Freedom

gaddafi in shades
I reign with style.

America has rained hell upon my African nation and used Al-Qaeda as a proxy for ground war. We all know that Al-Qaeda exists only as a false-flag extension of American Imperialism. There is actually no war going on in Afghanistan. American troops are cooperating with Al-Qaeda to help cultivate Opium and spend most of their time smoking the local Kush or playing Call of Duty.

I have in my possession proof of these claims and proof that 9/11 was personally planned by George W. Bush. My African son and Muslim brother, Barack Hussein Obama can not tolerate their release because they prove he was born in Libya. I turned to my personal confidant and ally, Julian Assange, who now has made the information safe by disguising it as internal Bank of America documents.

In the coming year, I may be killed by imperialist assassins. Yet I will stand strong! I will fight to the death. The crowds of armed protesters I bombed were incited to rebellion by Operation Metal Gear, and I have been in contact with Barrett Brown. He has assured me that all these revolutions in the Arab world have been artificially created by an army of sockpuppet Facebook accounts posting false information. We are certain that these same tactics are being used to calm Americans and disseminate dissent.

The leaders of all other nations conspire against me! I have not yet ordered my armies to do anything but defend their own lives. When I issue the attack, there will be nothing but death. All in Libya will burn! The dogs of the media will choke on their own lies, and the truth will be seen in a mountain of bodies. You did this, America! You are the ones who bombed the people of Libya!