If You Were Born In or After 1992, You're a Pussy...

You know, I don’t normally like to generalize. Personally, I prefer to single people out on their faults rather than create a tragic norm out of a couple rotten apples. Yet, there are always outliers. For example, I don’t hate Asians. In fact, I thoroughly enjoy General Tso’s chicken and Dragonball-Z reruns. However, that Asian chick that rolls her books around campus in LUGGAGE makes me sick and has successfully captured my hatred. Why does she feel the need to scurry around campus like a squirrel while wheeling every book she needs for the semester? STOP ROLLING THAT BAG OVER MY FEET! I swear if I didn’t know that she was rolling around books (because that‘s what Asians do other than win America's Best Dance Crew), I would think that the bag was full of Pokemon balls. I hate her. You hate her. I vote, for the betterment of campus life everywhere, she be destroyed. I don’t particularly care for clowns, either. I am actually the chief manufacturer of Ronald McDonald Kidnapping Kits. However, in light of the Dark Knight…I may want to grow up to be the Joker now. Yes children, I would like to make a living in the future by wearing face paint and purple pinstriped pants. Don’t judge me. Does anyone realize that this grown man was able to make other grown men wear masks of HIS face while they robbed a bank? If you can’t understand my amazement, I have a task for you. Go to your group project meeting and say, “alright everyone, so for tomorrow I think we should all wear (insert your name here) masks while we give our presentation.” I guarantee the Asian chick in the group transforms into a Pokemon and either zaps you with lightning or stuffs you into her luggage. Either situation ends with you never being seen again.

Anyway, as you can see, sometimes I do formulate my opinions of people based on the demographic they belong. This leads me to my point of the day: I hate today’s youth. If you were born in 1992, today you are 16; thus you are a pussy. So America, when you see Emu boy riding a skateboard down the sidewalk, politely stop him and ask him what year was he born. If he says anything after or including 1992, you have my permission to feed him a knuckle sandwich and throw his skateboard into oncoming traffic. I came to this conclusion the other day after watching a lot of television and realizing the sorry state that our country is now submerged. These kids today are groomed to be vaginas with arms and feet. Can someone explain to me why the Nintendo Wii has become the equivalent to…OUTDOORS? I own a Wii. Do you know why? Because as a child, when mother wasn’t home I wasn’t allowed to go outside. So during the 3 hours between getting home from school and when my mother came home from work, I sat in the house and played Mario. NO…not Mario Paint or Mario Sunshine or Mario Tennis. I played real Super Mario Bros for Nintendo. Now as an adult, the Wii allows me to appreciate how Mario has evolved from a 2D plumber jumping over barrels on Donkey Kong into Mario Galaxy on Nintendo Wii. So yes I own a Wii, but I don’t substitute going outside and playing pick up basketball for Dancing With the Stars with Wii nunchucks. When I was younger, I rode my bike, climbed trees, etc. Today, video game companies are scrambling to invent interactive pedals so you can go play Wii Tour de France. Fuck you Wii. If I ever see a Wii Tag or Wii Manhunt (or ultimately worse: Wii Catch the Girl Freak the Girl) I will dress up like Luigi and pour gallons of water on the Nintendo building in an attempt to short out its every single circuit. Yes, I will dress up like Luigi, and all you young 92ers will read about this on your Wii News and say to yourselves, “that looks like a green Mario costume.” Son of a bitch…

Can someone please explain to me when it became cool to pretend you are in a Rock Band instead of actually learning how to play the guitar? There is no reason why kids in the school marching band are STILL considered geeks while the “cool kids” can now sit in the basement and battle each other on Guitar Hero. I can solve this enigma. I’m going to infiltrate one of these basements where children surround themselves with Doritos and root beer and spend hours trying to “play” Walk This Way by hitting red, blue, green, and yellow buttons on a controller (or better yet, a controller that looks like and is the actual size of real guitar). I plan to pepper spray the entire room and then bludgeon these preteens to death with these stupid guitars. Then I’ll pour some root beer out for our dead homies. And since when did beating this game indeed constitute you a guitar "hero"? I don’t care if you can play Welcome to the Jungle on level 8…you will never sleep with a girl.

Ah, and my request for the day: STOP DANCING. Soulja Boi, I have so many words for you but I won’t waste any in this post. I got something for you later. Just understand when I do the Marco Polo, a gun is involved. However, all you little shits who thought it would be cool to crank that batman, spiderman, iron man, aqua man, blank man, sandman, and whatever else ends in “man” are indeed true examples of wasted semen. Instead of going to a party and actually dancing with a girl, apparently you and your core group of friends found it genius to create and record “Crank Dat Finding Nemo” in an empty  Target parking lot and post it on youtube last Friday evening. I have a new dance too and it’s call “Crank Dat Get Kicked In the Chest and Into a Bottomless Pit” and it’s really easy. I’ll be more than happy to travel to middle schools around the nation and conduct afternoon assemblies showing how it’s done. Ladies (and I use that term loosely), you aren’t off the hook either. Listen, it’s little bitches like Patti Mayo (youtube her NOW before continuing reading any further...NOW ASSHOLE) that make it possible to have shows like To Catch a Predator on the air. The female 92er doesn’t baby-sit the neighbors’ kids on a Friday or Saturday night. No, no, no, she’s in her dad’s home office dancing to Rihanna in booty shorts and a bra for her web cam for all of the nation’s perverts to view (for free). You know bitches born in 84 actually get paid for this same shit (thus making it OK). So not only do you get comments from males posted under your video saying, “slut”, “whore”, “shake it baby“, and “that bitch got rabies”, but from females too saying, “that aint how you wind it up…broke bitch.”

I just don’t get it anymore. You know Sesame Street doesn’t even come on anymore. If it does, my Comcast Cable tells me that number doesn't exist. How do you grow up without Sesame Street though? I just don’t understand. Learning numbers by counting bats with The Count in the morning has been sadly replaced with adding up all the bitches from all the seasons of Flavor of Love in the evenings. Isn’t that a bitch? You bastards born in 92 ACTUALLY think Transformers was just a creative movie. Keenan and Kel have been replaced with...Drake and Josh? You know what was the shit? E.T. A child told me yesterday that Wall-E is the new E.T. I poisoned his lunchable. Those of you born in 92 or after, you are indeed pussies. Your Razor scooters and colorful trendy helmets that make wearing helmets cool sicken me. I hate you as much as I hate the sandwiches your mother cut into triangles for your lunch. You are all fat and sick because you lock yourselves in your bedrooms sipping Capri Suns and eating Cheez-Its as you deprive yourselves of fresh air and sunlight because you found a new friend to talk to on X-Box360 as you play Halo. You all truly think Lil Wayne is the best rapper of all time because 2pac and Biggie have become just as mythical as Hercules and Leprechauns to you. And finally, what the hell is Go-Gurt? Children…does anyone realize that someone invented and promoted yogurt in a motha fucking tube and these sorry bastards of the 90s now love this shit like crack in the 80s? I’m moving to Canada…