Why Nobody liked me when I was a kid
This and that. This and that. You know.
I sell insurance, man. So When I was a kid, and like a real kid I was I was,
I
broke every bone in my body for fun.
I had no friends but I did have a father who was serving a life sentance for
the murder of 12 prostitutes, and a mother who I never knew. But, I mean, like,
none of this matters because nobody can be blamed for their upbringing and
for like where their parents came from. I was sent to a school called... um...
I can't remember; but like, it was neat and I got to learn about sex from the
janitor and from the principle. They both enjoyed me enough to give me the "thourough
treatment". I got a ball of wax to throw around until it broke, and then I
had nothing. But it was cool, you know, cuz then I got to go to high school
when it was fininshed.
High school was a great blast. I got
beat up every day and the only teacher who liked me was the fat arts teacher
who put the janitor at my last school to shame with his own "thourough treatment". I once got thrown in the kiln to get me warmed up. But then the principle came in to talk to the arts teacher and he couldn't let me out without the principle seeing, so he turned it off and left me in there while they talked. I was in there for like 72 minutes, man. It was hot. The doctor said that it made me more aware of my surroundings and stuff. To this day I can't touch anything that's hot or I'll yell "Owie!
Owie! Owie!"
Soon, I got out of school. I was all alone and had nothing to do, and nobody
to talk to and there was nothing I could really do to get food anymore. This
was the "down" part of my life. I walked a lot, threw bits of crumbs at the
ducks when I was lucky enough to get some day-old doughnuts. Then one day,
it hit me. It was a red Honda Civic going about 130 down a residential street,
and it hit ME. It was the best day of my life. The news papers bought my story,
and the city became my overnight friend. I sued the fuck outta that punk in
the Civic and got myself the nice little sum of $3,000,200.oo from various
charities, support groups, the news papers and most importantly, from the rich
punks parents. I was a new man. I took my money and decided I would try Crack.
The Crack was fun, but the rehab took a long time, and when it was all over,
I had lost a couple years, and all the friends I gained when the car hit me.
I tried to get hit by another car, but it was no use because I was now very
overweight and people would spot me a mile away. I still had about two million
left, so I bought a house and a maid and a live-in therapist. I started learning
music theory and consulted an investor to help me put my money into the "swelling
bucket".
In a short time I was on my feet and I had a lot of nice people that I paid
to be around. I sued my teachers from school and got a shit load of money,
and then I sold that story to a bunch of newspapers and magazines, and got
even more money.
In the end, I became rich, which I realize was inevitable from the beginning.
This, I figure, is why nobody liked me - ever. Because they knew that in the
end I'd fuck them all in return. They could see that I could not be stopped.
That I would triumph over them like Godzilla on the Empire State Building. And
I have. This is my life.
