| MONKEY |
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 Rant |
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| by RustyNail |
"How did I get here?" you ask yourself. The floodgates open, scenarios play out in your mind involving Youtubing Nickelback videos at 3 am whilst cleaning your keyboard to remove a thick layer of Cheeto dust. This is who you will become. No, not me. Highly regarded people masturbate to midget bestiality porn on a regular basis. It's just my kink. A great testament to our evolutionary prerogative to spread our seed in all sorts of different settings. No fault of mine.
What if it doesn't stop there? Will I be like Ricky Steamboat, killing drifters to get erections? Or will I be like that young fellow from a while back, who skinned little girls alive and then rung his soppy, precummy boxers over a kitchen sink to dry them out? The gateway drug theory, I think, applies more to pornography than actual narcotics. Most of us start out stealing Playboy magazines from loved ones' dresser drawers, and for an unfortunate some, graduate to rectal prolapse elderly fisting videos. All it takes is time, and the right kind of brain.
The question then becomes, "Where do I draw the line?" After all, how could one put prison shower and cock mutilation scenes on the same scale, and then have the fortitude to rate them accordingly? I sure couldn't. Personal responsibility comes into play here. If you feel shame after climax, you're probably jerking off to something you shouldn't be jerking off to. Or you were adopted by religious zealots and they filled your brain with propaganda.
Legalities should also come into play. While it's certainly illegal to pirate pornography, you won't wind up with as much jail time as, say, a guy with four terabytes of child porn would. Do you know what they do to pedophiles on the inside? I remember reading about a group of prisoners who took turns shitting, pissing and puking into a bucket. Then they broke a few glass bottles inside, and threw the bucket's contents at another inmate so when he tried to get the shit off of his face, the shards would cut him open and cause an infection. It worked, and he died.
Which brings me to my next point: If your fantasies involve murder, it'd probably be a good idea to stop climaxing to them. If you acted on them, you'd get more prison time than you would for raping a child, and (depending on where you live) you might get the death penalty. If you've absolutely got to kill someone, don't kill a child. They'll throw away the key. Ricky Steamboat had the right idea.
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It was the wise Craz Moorehead who once said, "If we continue this trend of shortening words and phrases for convenience we'll eventually be reduced to grunting cavemen." I consider him to be one of the great thinkers of our time, a bright and eager salmon in a sea of debaucherous, downstreaming tuna. Craz ran off to live in the woods with his girlfriend. I haven't spoken with him in a few years, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was dead.
I, for one, don't plan to turn out like Craz. We live in a world of drug abuse, perversion and general lunacy, yet no one is happy. If a little convenience is all we ask for, then what's the problem? What's the big deal? If I want to type u instead of you, c instead of see, and lol instead of "I am laughing," you should praise me for coming up with inventive ways to converse on a secondary communication platform. Language does its job when the person listening understands what the person talking says. It serves no other purpose. Besides, you don't want to be like this guy:
Who would? That mother fucker, I bet he sucks his thumb.
***
Columnist Jabbapop and myself are planning the Great American Journey, a tour of Northeast United States and other various places. We (he) are in the process of procuring funds for this devious debacle. I will supply the narcotics, most likely in a briefcase because I am a huge nerd. While his intentions are unclear, mine are relatively clear. This will be a journey of spiritual discovery, a powerful survey into the cultural landscape of this great American country of ours. I will be staying in hotels. Jabbapop will be sleeping in his car. The culmination of this trip will involve a spirited rendezvous with Troy Zuniga in New York City, then I'll probably take a bus back and Jabbapop will drive for days alone to get home.
Unless someone volunteers to accompany him.
lol
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