I’ve been through so much depression this week that I’m starting to become like those emo kids I’ve made fun of in Down the Highway. Also, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a few notches away from becoming a misogynist like resident TMB Woman-Hater Squid. Given a little more time, I just might start punching pregnant women in the stomach just like he does. I’d be a total woman-hater already if women aren’t good for secks and making sammiches. But I digress.

Emo Hitler
This is not a picture of Squid

Anyway, I’m blaming much of my emoness on Steel, who has been acting like a douchebag lately. He also looks like a hobo. I plan on taking out my frustrations by punching the shit out of pregnant women who look like him.

Emo Rant #1: Ninjas
Ninjas are the pits. They like to hang around in trees, biding their time as I pass by, then they jump on me with their shurikens and they to poison my coffee at the most inopportune times. Of course I am forced to kill them ninjas every chance I get. Also, they wear black. They’re like emo. And that makes me sad. =(

Emo Rant #2: Koreans
Last Sunday I was on the beach. I saw this girl, who was so totally cute and sexy and all that. And she looked stunning in a bikini. I was about to go to her and tell her that I love her already and I’d marry her and have children with her when I realized that she’s a Korean.

And Korean men have small penises. And Kim Jong-il is Korean. And they make Kimchi and Sandara Park and those gel pens those high school girls go gaga for. Also, the make that kawaii sign when they take pictures. Oh dear lord, I am so depressed right now just thinking of Koreans.

Emo Rant #3: Secks
Secks is like the ultimate emo trip. It’s messy it’s smelly, it involves bodily fluids, and unless your name is Maria Ozawa, not awesome. Also, Koreans have small penises, but I said that already but I’m still depressed. Also, a wise man once said that “It’s not the size of the boat, it’s the motion of the ocean” (Mike “Fucking” Villar, 2007). So there.

Yeah, I’m not making sense am I? No? Damn.

Secks? No? Fuck.

Bah. Wimmin.

Anyway I go now. Since writing this post made me extremely depressed, I’ll just sit back in one corner, bang my head against the wall while trying hard to not cry like the wuss I am. Also, if a fat overweight guy who remotely looks like Dominic Ochoa bangs your door in the middle of the night asking for secks, please tell your dad or husband to put his gun down.

So what makes you emo? How do you deal with emo? Tell me all about it by posting a comment, so I can laugh and make fun of your misfortunes.

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