ah, ok, so a little more perhaps. well lemme sit here a while and talk about nothing. i won't even proofread this afterwards! yay!

I am Mr. Apethetic. I don't care about a whole lot anymore. most people annoy me. I hate all of the stupid little things people bitch about when they have no room to bitch. I hate the things people bitch about that should stay inside thier little high school heads. I hate loud people with nothing intelligent (or at least sounds half inspired) to say. I, in general, hate people.

I hate my stupid high school class. I hate thier pop music and thier stupid love chains and thier moronic fucking world. I wish they would all trip over thier god forsaken skater shoes and stab themselves through the cartoid vein with thier hot topic spikes. I want to watch them choke on 50cent albums. Mostly i'd like to do it myself, you know with a gun about the side of my ego, but i can't because i play waaaay too many videogames and it would look real bad.

besides, where am i gonna find a sherman tank painted black with a giant machete duct taped to the front.


Yeah, with me on the inside listening to Massive Attack while running the big fucking machete into your face, climbng out, sticking you into the barrel of my sherman, and blowing your corpse through the wall into a throng of your emo-thrash-ska-punkette-rap-hiphop friends.

All but eight of them die.

those eight start a band, and after careful deliberation about the circumstances surrounding thier bands conception they decided to name themselves the "Liberate Tiawanese Green Party Refugees".



Dear god why do all of you sick morons exist. who invented punk pop blah blah blah shit? WHO?! the english i'll bet. but at least we already knew they were bland and wickedly uninspired, so that was fine. but bland and wickedly uninspired americans? ok yeah, so thats not so hard to pull either. But nonetheless, without the accent you are still screwed. But hey, i must be cool and bland too since i can recite every ska/punk track ever written:


dun nun nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh "ricka racka riffa runna winga heya wooa" dun nun nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh...

ok, so stupid "this is you and you're all like 'mluahahaaaweee'" second grade impression insults aren't exactly effective, but i didn't to come accross as too much more intelligent than they must be. in this instant of impression insult, alot.

Someone gimme a break.


ok, but i went off on a tangent. let me get back to the more general "i hate everyone" stuff the FBI is scouring this page for.

well, maybe instead i'll talk about who i like.


Kyle. Kyle is great. Kyle can stomach my huge ego and constant blasting of hot air. Kyle sometimes actually thinks i am intelligent. I like Kyle. Kyle and i are very much alike, and therefore we often times want more than anything else in the world to kill each other, but i still love him throughout it all. Kyle pretty much assumes that my position is ok for me so its mostly ok for him, and stands beside me (or somewhere behind me, depending on the immediate danger). So thats Kyle.


Next, is Rachel. I could get all gooey and talk about how much she means to me and stuff, but this isn't the time nor the place considering the previous material. Needless to say, Rachel and Kyle are hanging off a bridge about to die, i would at least consider saving her much longer than i would consider kyle before i laughed and walked off to save myself the effort.

Ok so i'd save her. leave me alone. Kyle is a big boy, he can fall to his doom and bounce back on his own.


Also on this list reside a few other people with whom i communicate less than i should but still weigh in on the bridge-death model. AKA, susan, steve, scot, DATA from star trek, Riker, aw hell the whole bridge crew except for the chic with the shrt hair who dies eventually. and wesley. little bastard.



i think i'm done now.