Honorable Mentions #4: 4th of July: Just.. just fuck this.

#4 "4th of July: Just.. just fuck this."

By Mark Gross

I suppose, to be fair, I should say I already hated everyone by this time, their natures fully revealed and in turn their natures revealed to be easily discovered in your local toy shop (look for them in the Barbies collection). As such, to even consider arriving on time was detestable to me.

I went.

There was no hope of them being redeemed, but I hoped to grit my teeth and bear through, you know, for the food. Not only was I wrong in this assumption, I found myself warped into a world that exists only in the giggling minds of tiresome beings. I stepped out of the car and emerged into Hell, just in time to listen to the Cape Crusaders, (editor's note: this band isn't that great) sadly, my only other reason for going. I had a choice to make: take that chair over there and sit alone to watch them play, or join that group right in front of the show.

Easy choice, I took the chair. Fuck that. No, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that, fuck that shit. Fuck that shit to hell. Straight to fucking hell. You know what? I would rather have fucked shit while summoning nether demons with devil magic to drag me straight to fucking hell than been part of that fucking group. I'm not that much of a fucking idiot.

As you can see, the period of decline was in full force. I saw that group there and it was made up of plastic and LIES. Fan-fucking-tastic. When the music ended - those fucking bitches - went inside or some shit. I didn't even step foot into the inner sanctum of the house, because some cool guy left and gave me a ride home so I could enjoy it with my family. Unlike some people, who don't have a fucking family. Why? Because nobody loves them. Fuck.