As I child, I loved N.W.A. The sweet rhymes of Ice Cube, Eazy-E, DJ Yella, MC Ren, and Arabian Prince had a profound impact on me during my formative years.
I don’t always drink whiskey, but when I do, I lie about how often I drink whiskey.
When considering a career in child molestation, don’t overlook your eyewear. Proper glasses can be the difference between an Amber Alert and a Fashion Alert.
Sitting at work, eating a large bowl of cherries.
I’m working my way to the bottom of the bowl when I think, “Hm. These are good, but they’re kind of plain. I wonder what kinds of things people dip cherries in.”
I fire up the Google and start to type “cherries dip.”
I get to the “d” in “dip” when Google steps in and says, “Holy shit. You have to see this.”
Top suggestion: cherries diarrhea.
A wave of terror creeps up my spine. I click.
"If you eat too many cherries in one sitting, you will likely shit your pants," the internet tells me.
I spit the pit I had in my mouth into a napkin. I glance back over to the bowl. There are two cherries left in what was a bowl of at least 40.
For the first time in my life, I begin to pray.
—Guy who gets called a faggot all the time
Live your life and progress as a human being, but remember that there will always be somebody trying to turn you back into the person you once were. That somebody is an idiot, though, because you really used to be such a terrible piece of shit back then.
The French call it “L’appel du vide.” It’s that little piece of your brain that urges you to cause your own ruin—just for the hell of it. Maybe it’s that impulse you get to steer your car across the freeway median and into oncoming traffic. Perhaps it’s that inner voice that tells you to pick up that knife off the counter and plunge it into your chest, just to see if you could. In my case, it’s pooping with the door open, even though I know my roommate will be home at any minute.
The void calls for us all.