Coming to Terms With the Rape of My Childhood

                                        

   
       I think at some point everyone comes to the realization that most of the things from their childhood that they hold to be sacred have been largely forgotten and/or molested or shit on. Except for the people who lack the cognitive function to formulate such thoughts, such as people who believe in 9/11 conspiracies.

       But for the rest of us, the experience can be disillusioning. And cultural amnesia is worse now than ever. If it happened more than five minutes ago you are an asshole for even mentioning it. They already have a dubstep remix for that shit, and it's so much better that it will make you shit yourself.

Motherfucking Dubstep.

       And so naturally, if it happened more than a decade ago it's fucking ancient, and you are an absolute turd of a human for so much as thinking about it, unless it happens to be some random shitty band or fashion statement, such as EMF or girls pulling their shorts up above their navels, making their asses appear to be three feet long. If anyone reading this does that, you look fucking ridiculous. That went out of vogue 25 years ago for a reason. And they never remember the good bands, such as Bell Biv DeVoe, or the good fashion statements, such as Z. Cavarricis.

The one exception to my "not above the navel" rule.

     

       Nowadays it seems like practically all of culture is born and pronounced dead on the internet in such rapid succession that we hardly have the chance to process what the fuck it is. For example, the troubled young man below has become considerably famous in recent months, and no one really knows what the fuck is the deal with him, except that he is a member of the Official Fanclub of Wayne Gretzky and Kings Team Aficionados. Being that he is from L.A., I assume this is legitimate.

       And culture isn't slowing down anytime soon. The internet is the great equalizer and everyone who uses it now has an equal opportunity to become famous, even someone as ugly as yourself, and more and more people are using the internet every day. They are running out of IP addresses for fuck's sake. Well I for one plan on becoming famous, and that is the primary reason for this blog. Don't get it twisted by thinking that I just genuinely enjoy entertaining you fuckers. But that is why net neutrality is so important, and I absolutely think it's a very good thing, for all of us to have the same shot at the big time, but I still long for the simpler times when things were more slowed down and in neater compartments, and for those old familiar cultural symbols I cherish, but the problem is that the internet has thoroughly defiled them all.

       The youth of today are so thoroughly desensitized and full of hipster ennui that they have even resorted to soiling the good names of the characters from Sesame Street. They have painted the Count as a whoremonger and deviant, have transformed the cookie monster from a mere cookie enthusiast into a terminal phase food addict, have implied an incongruous sexual relationship between Bert and Ernie, and, perhaps worst of all, have projected their annoying insouciance onto all of them. How dare you do that to my defenseless childhood friends?

       Suffice it to say they have taken the characters of Sesame Street and they have savagely raped them in their fuzzy shit pipes. And I am none too pleased about it. Go fuck yourself, Tumblr.

       Shameful how you donkey punch the good name of Donatello and just shove it up his turtle tailpipe like that.

       No he fucking didn't. He loved physical fitness and Jeet Kune Do, and you are raping his corpse.

       How dare you sit there and pinch out a steamy loaf on the good name of Jazzercise?

This isn't from my childhood but it's still fucked up.

No, it's not related, and yes, I still mad.

       For fuck's sake, take your dick out of Marty. He's got enough bullshit as it is. I'm going to leave you all with this tale of disillusionment. I have no idea which anonymous user of the internet wrote it, and I am using it without his or her permission. Sort of like you didn't ask for permission to go balls deep into my childhood's virgin asshole.

       Well it might be a little longer than usual before I post again, because I need to find a job. No, I don't get paid millions of dollars for this. I agree, it's fucking bullshit. But my absence doesn't mean that I love you any less. Your kiss is still on my list of the best things in life. And so are nachos.

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