Shut the Fuck Up Already

Read this article. Now. Did you read it? Well what the hell are you waiting for? The rest of my post won't make a damn bit of sense if you don't read it. It'll take five minutes. Just do it. You done? Ok.

How's your forehead? Is it dented yet? Need an ice pack? How about some Advil? Tylenol Migraine maybe? Or perhaps some Topamax to stop the twitching.

In the words of Denis Leary, open ass, insert head.

You know, there will be very few times I actually defend whatever integrity that might exist around Twilight, and this is one of them. YA ISN'T FUCKING LESSER, DAMMIT! No, Meyer isn't Jack Kerouac but who is other than Jack himself? Why must things be as they were in the past to be just as good? While Twilight has a tendency to make my eyes bleed, it also makes me re-evaluate the position of women in society, gender roles, religious roles, the concept of life and death. Yes, all that is in TWILIGHT. Odd though, I know, but it is there. Why must the youth of America read to someone else's standards in order to reach a goal set by someone else?

I may not Twit, Twat or Tweet but is Twitter not a beneficial program to have connected to these new timey devices called cell phones to alert students to lock downs and mad gunmen on campuses? Virginia Tech, anyone? There's a reason why most of the age bracket gets their news from The Daily Show with John Stewart, ok?

For fuck's sake we're getting the same information and having the same conversations as the hippies 35 years ago just in a different language. Instead of groovy it's awesome. Instead of man it's dude. Instead of yeah it's like. What the hell's the difference when it's all the same thing? Does Generation Dead not touch upon social diversity, stereotypes and human differences the same way those beatniks did? Is it really so bad that Daniel Waters says that message with zombies as opposed to fist-pumping tie-dye? Seriously, same difference, man.

Just to warn you right here, I've been amped up on Denis Leary for the past week. Read his book. Saw him live on Saturday. Be prepared for Fuck Force One in three, two, one . . .

I'm what these dipshits call a Millenial. I'm at the old end, 1981 being the official start. I was born in 1983. And guess what? My fucking IQ is 12-fucking-6. I have a fucking Bachelor's in fucking English with a minor in creative fucking writing that I 4.0'ed my way through. I consistently fucking tested in the 90th fucking percentile and up in state school testing all twelve fucking years and graduated with a fucking honor cord wrapped around my goddamn neck and honors tassels in my fucking eyes. I can debate and write my way out of any fucking scenario, on any intellectual fucking level and I grew up on Stephen fucking King, Christopher fucking Pike and RL fucking Stine.

So they can take their fucking poetry and brown acid and "real literature" and sit on it and fucking spin. I'm going to go over here and read my Stephenie fucking Meyer and my JK fucking Rowling and my Daniel fucking Waters and my Caroline B. fucking Cooney and enjoy myself. And then have conversations with my fucking peers who also fucking enjoyed themselves and talk about the same goddamn things that kids our age were talking about forty fucking years ago, just using different fucking filler words and then get our social fucking commentary from South Park and The fucking Daily Show.

So piss it.

This expletive enema brought to you by Joe Pesche, the MAFIA and a pepperoni pizza. Remember people, don't piss off the little Italian girl, mkay? Not good.