By nature, I'm a pretty mellow dude. When I blog, I may use "fuck", "motherfuckers", "bullshit", "what the fuck", etc a lot, but in person, I'm really laid back. I'm also not a violent person. But something happened last night that is making me question who I am.
Now, I've always made fun of "emo" kids (don't get me started on the history of emo and how it's been perverted to it's present day awfulness). We all make fun of emo kids. How can you not? But I mean, they're harmless. In a few years, they'll be ten times as embarrassed over wearing eyeliner and girlpants than I ever was for having a mullet. My normal reaction to emo nonsense is to just let time sort it all out.
But last night, a switch flipped. These two emo kids at the coffee joint were minding their own business, not being obnoxious or anything, and yet I had this overwhelming urge to walk over and just slam their heads together. First of all, I am waaaay too old to be giving a shit about youth culture. Secondly, I haven't been in an actual fight since sixth grade, so in all probability I can't fight at all (but there's always a small chance I am have natural, hidden Bruce Lee, so don't fuck with me), so why entertain any illusions of macho-ness at all? I'd probably get my ass handed to me by two frail kids wearing eyeliner and girlpants. Third, ugh what's with my inner jock meathead all of a sudden emerging?
I'm hoping this was a one time thing. Certainly not proud of it. So if you ever see a group of emo kids beating the shit out of a chubby 30-something year old dude, you'll know what happened.
By the way, I blame Spazz for instilling this in me.
Campaign For Emo Destruction
dropping your mic to sing on the floor
that never was or will be hardcore
put on a show for little petty page
phony tears instead of rage
pretend you're sensitive so you get laid
you're a wolf in thrift clothing, they're your prey
spock can't get women any other way