First, background. Originally this blog had other posts on here, also angry and spiteful but generally grandiose. Some good writing wit-wise (if you want me to be humble about my writing, you can go eat shit in hell) and mechanically, and a few good points were made, but generally it was full of jaded-for-no-reason political scrawls from a socially-awkward, single, overweight eighteen-year-old burnout with a whole lot of self-loathing to project onto the rest of the world. I've grown up a bit since then: I am now twenty years old, in a wonderful relationship that has changed me in ways I could never have imagined, a little less fat (I'm no gym rat, but I go enough), and I've never given a shit about being socially awkward, mostly because I don't value the social norms of my peers in any way, shape or form.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm into bestiality or any weird shit like that; I'm more the sort of person that likes to say uncomfortable things, express unmentionable thoughts, and generally make people uneasy by mocking their preconceptions and prejudices against what they perceive to be abnormal. Here, I'll do a breakdown of people who will not like my humour by age so you can decide quickly whether or not to keep reading:
- if you still live with your parents (due to age, not money), i.e. birth through to seventeen/eighteen, you don't have enough life experience to know shit about shit and enjoy my humour; after three years out of the nest I'm still a kid, which makes you somewhere between diapers and your first day at school
- if you're a Boomer you probably won't like my humour due to your generation's tendency towards moral judgement based on semantics/appearance rather intent (that, and you people are my favourite demographic to make fun of; playfully of course, but if you'll refer back to the early part of this point, you're not likely to appreciate this)
- anyone older than a Boomer isn't going to find this shit anyways, so fuck 'em, fuck their grandkids and everything they've ever done in their long-ass lives
- I'd love to think my thoughts are sophisticated enough for grown-ass young people to appreciate, but I doubt it; if you have a steady, honest-to-God job with real responsibility, and especially if you have a spouse, and ESPECIALLY if you have kids, you'll probably object to my comparative lack of maturity and my chronic inability to pretend that kids are somehow more important than anyone else (remember, to paraphrase George Carlin, people are just kids that got older, when exactly do we suddenly become "NOT special"?)
Thus it becomes evident that the nebulous social bracket dubbed "youth" would be my general target audience. What that is exactly I don't know. Fifty years ago "youth" kinda stopped early because people were generally less pussy and childish back then, probably around twenty-one. Now, there are people still "finding themselves" in their mid-30s. Whatever, I'm not here to harsh on you because you can't get your shit together, it's tough, I know. I mean, I'll never understand how you can have built nothing and accomplished nothing but introspective psychomasturbation and be almost halfway through life, but I guess until I'm one of the above-mentioned grown-ass people I shouldn't talk any more shit than I already have.
So, let's say our target audience is people in their twenties. If you're behind, welcome thirty-somethings! If you're ahead, welcome teens! Not too many of you though, we won't be checking IDs but I don't want your mother to hold my ass responsible for you not going to church or abstaining from whatever other meaningless group activities your parents may have indoctrinated you into believing were valuable.
*Note: I'm a committed atheist, but this will be the last time I bring up religion. If you're religious I think your beliefs are total bullshit, but consider this: if I'm wrong in that assessment I'm going to burn in a fiery dungeon and get ass-raped by Hitler for eternity, or whatever it is that happens to people without a membership in the Imaginary Man in the Sky Fan Club, so I see little reason for you to get angry with me. Just admitting a bias. Anways...
Within this group of twenty-year-olds, the following groups of people will not find my humour, well, humourous:
1. Most women. Sorry ladies, and the cool ones know who you are so don't get all pissed off, if you end up liking my humour I'm not telling you to leave or some shit, but most of y'all like your comedy the way you like your music: unthreatening, cute, and well-packaged/marketed. You have every right to like things well-packaged in most areas of your recreational life, but art should not be one of them. Yes, I'm pompous enough to consider my comedy "art" in that I don't tell jokes, I'm not Dane Cook. Considering I'm pompous enough to start a blog about my opinions, this shouldn't surprise you. Moving on...
2. Given my above note about religion, those of you from those socially-conservative religions based on judgement of rhetoric and not intent may be turned off. Although if you were good-natured enough to get through that note without going "FUCK THIS GUY HE GON' BUUUUUUUUUUUURN!" then you're probably one of those more tolerant religious types. I like you guys, you can be part of the squad. You can even have your own prayer circle before we do battle with the rage within us. Muslims would, I believe, call such an exercise "jihad". Before you start crying "RACIST!", educate yourself on the meaning of "jihad": http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/jihad (see the theological meaning, a.k.a. definition #3).
3. Related to the above, guys who may be reading this with your girlfriend. Why anybody would want to actually share my thoughts with anyone they value I haven't the foggiest idea, but feel free to shake your head horizontally when she goes, "You don't find this funny, do you?"; don't worry, her lack of a sense of humour won't slowly grind your soul into dust. Nope, don't worry, you'll be just fine.
4. Anyone who's, well... on the slow side. If anyone calls you Forrest as a nickname, that's a sign. If the majority of your favourite music is played on Top 40 radio or on any video channel on TV, that's an even clearer sign. Know the ERA of every starting pitcher in the American League? Well, actually, that's some Rainman shit right there. Autism sufferers probably have a lot to rage about I guess, so you can be on the team. Just try and keep the grunts and twitches to a minimum. What, that's Tourette's? Fuck it, they can join too. Entertainment value.
5. Since you were in high school have you EVER called someone weird or fucked-up and meant it negatively? With regards to their behaviour, this is okay in the following cases: pedophilia, bestiality, Holocaust denial, cheering against the home team to try and seem cool and disaffected, licking a kiwi (the fruit, not the New Zealander, although New Zealanders typically are fruits) and commenting on how it reminds you of being an altar boy, and calling one's own penis "the Hogwarts Express". If you have and it didn't fit one of the above descriptions you're probably the sort of person that finds making jokes about major tragedies offensive. A little bit of wisdom: happy things don't need to be joked about. Jokes about sunsets and rainbows aren't funny. Jokes about landmines and crackheads are. Especially if you combo the two.
However, never fear! There are people who may like my humour! YOU could be one of them even! Are you:
1. A pothead? You fuckers laugh at everything. Welcome aboard! Try not to eat all the team snacks, we all want some juiceboxes and Girl Guide cookies at the end of a good round of raging.
2. A heavy drinker? Great, massive alcohol consumption diminishes inhibitions right along with your ability not to piss yourself and not call your elderly neighbour a cockblocker when she tries to get you to stop humping her garden gnomes, so I'm sure you'll be a great fit. Oh, you're actually an alcoholic? Well then, I'm sure the jokes about parents beating their kids will bring out that warm, nostalgic feeling in you. Or maybe that's just the whiskey, who knows. Actually, fuck you, you're off the team. Real talk.
3. Someone who's been called a "sick fuck" by someone from the category 5 exclusions? You're in. Yes, I'm sure that bag of your own feces will be valuable fuel to keep you warm during the impending nuclear winter. No, I will not contribute. Unless it's Two Girls One Cup style. Awwwwwwwwwww yeeeeeeeeeeah! You're totally Team Captain now. Coach T approves.
4. Does the man who asks the question "How can Justin Beiber have a MySpace when he's stuffed in my crawlspace?" make you giggle like a schoolgirl because you've found Mr. Right? You're in.
5. Chuck Palahniuk. Yeah? Fuck yeah. Louis C.K., George Carlin, or Bill Hicks? Fuckin' fuckity fuck yeah.
6. Have you ever held a big knife in your hands and wondered, "hypothetically of course", what it would be like to slash up a family of five and feed their corpses to the so-hungry-they've become-cannibals children locked in your basement, Buffalo Bill-style? Wait, REALLY?! DUDE! You're soooooo the new Team Captain, fuck that Shit in a Bag guy.
7. Anybody who doesn't fit into the above six categories but would like to play naked Twister with these people.
Alright team! Thanks for undergoing orientation. This should be fun. Next stop: Thing I'm Pissed Off At #1!
Your sincerely and grotesquely,
Coach T
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