All I wanted was to get some goddamned antihistamine at the dollar store. That’s it. That is all I wanted. But ofcourse, no matter where I go or what I do, assbags just seem to find me and attempt to shit on me in some way or another. And the kicker is I am really friendly. Like REALLY friendly. I honestly have no problems with anyone other than the usual chum scrubbers we all have problems with (bigots, pedophiles, bad drivers), but in the same breath, I have a switch. And when some ignoramus (yay for sounding like my Grandma) wants to test those limits, it flips my switch pretty quick. Like, for example, the racist old veteran who just told me, and I quote,”A Jap woulda cut my head off…” because of the hat I was wearing. No, really, this JUST happened to me a little under an hour ago. I am so filled with rage that it is hard to type this with shaky hands, but my hands are shaking from multiple revelations, which will reveal themselves over the course of this insane story. And though I say my life is like a movie, I never say from which genre. That is for you, and fate, to decide. I am leaning toward tragic comedy, though.
I truly believe that every man worth his salt has one good “slapped in the face” story. I just see it as a coming-of-age type of thing. It doesn’t mean that slap was justified, and it may have made the person on the receiving end feel like an ass, but regardless, you once you get that moment, you can do with it what you please. For example, this situation I am about to talk about. When this happened to me, I pretty much wanted to crawl into a hole and die (the 500 or so witnesses didn’t help that feeling), but now that I am separated from the instance and have some healthy distance to re-evaluate what all went down that day, and I am truly grateful it happened. Why? Because it gave me this amazing story I am about to tell you right now, so in that sense, it was more than worth it. Fucked up, but more than worth it. Trust me, this is another mind blower. I would grab a drink before taking this ride, kids.
First off, let me begin by giving you credit. You have the toughest and most important job in the world. It is YOU who brings up the next generation of people who will dictate how this planet runs. I see how heady a responsibility that is, and commend you from the bottom of my heart for taking on that challenge, but note: I said challenge. Because that is just what it is. You are walking against the tide right now, and every single thing you say and do is far more important than you think. Your actions resonate within that child, and forever set in stone the examples they will learn from. What we need to do now is guide those children right, which is something less and less of you are doing. I know this all may seem easy for me, casting stones and standing off to the side, sans child. But you need to know, I only don’t have children because I know what an ugly world this is, and I am genuinely afraid that ugliness would seep into my child’s life, regardless of what I said or did. But you, you chose AGAINST that. You chose to have your child (or children), and in doing so, you signed a verbal contract ensuring the rest of the world, and ESPECIALLY that child, that you would do all you could to raise that soul right. So let me ask you, have you? I mean, have you REALLY?
Alright guys, if you are reading this, I am assuming things got way out of hand, and I’m sorry. It started as a game, it really did. We called it assassin, and it was just something stupid we did around school that somehow took on a life of its own. The way is started was simple, really. If someone got behind you, and put their hand on your back or neck, it meant you were “dead” for the day. If you were “dead” for the day, you could not assassinate anyone else. The idea was to see who was the last man standing most often, and dubbing that person the monthly assassin. That was it. Then one day, John got the note that changed everything. It was folded into one of his school books, and he pulled it out during class. Scrawled in pen were the words: Surprise, you’re dead! And on the back of the paper were instructions. Kill someone within ten minutes of getting this note, or you will be killed. I know John thought it was a joke, we all did. But the next day when they found John’s body, no one was laughing, and everyone was suspect. And then it happened again, and wouldn’t you know it, kids would much rather kill someone than die themselves, which turned Surprise, You’re Dead into the epidemic it is now. I’ll tell you all I know, but you need to take this to the right people and do the right thing, and you know what that is.
At the end of the last chapter, I was at Baseball and Boardwalk, and the group of terrible people I was with were about to engage in a fingering contest. Like I said, that is EXACTLY as awful as it sounds. In case you haven’t read the last chapter, I recommend you do so now, or this may be a bit out of context. Regardless, it will be a mindf*ck of a story, but you really should hear it in order. Needless to say, my torment was only going to be furthered if I was the one in the group who DIDN’T finger someone, but in the same breath, I was just an innocent kid back then, and there was NO WAY I was going to be able to (or wanted to) actually finger someone, so I was at a crux. Standing in a land that was all but foreign to me, in every way. The funny thing is, I kicked in to survival mode at that point. These assholes brought this to the surface in me. A diabolical, almost genius method of problem solving I have never experienced before. Man, fight or flight response can be pretty fucking amazing when you are forced into them. And a quick disclaimer: This does not turn into a love story that circles around fingering. This, my friends, is a cunning story of survival. And the nicest teenage girl you will ever read about in your life.
In the seventies, The Kama Sutra became rather famous, mainly because everyone was just banging everyone else with little fear of consequence, and then blaming the whole thing on the “free love, free drugs” movement. But over time, certain sexual positions from that book have been banned for various reasons. Below, I will list the five most infamously banned positions, how YOU can do them, and also, the death toll before they were pulled from the book. Please note, there is a massive risk of personal injury (as well as the injury of your partner) from trying these. They were banned for a reason, afterall. But if you are horny as shit, and just want to do some freaky ass sex-stuffs no one else has done, these would be the way to go. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. You could die, or melt your genitals. And we all know “Melty Genitals” would be the worst X-Men ever.
I only knew Max for six weeks. He was like a ghost. The kind of person who comes into your life, and then vanishes. And you are never really sure if they were ever actually there. He would come around when everyone else left. A quiet kid, for the most part, but on the rare occasion he chose to speak, you would sit up and listen. He was not one to mince or waste words. And one night, while him and I were sitting outside my house having a smoke, he told me a story about Halloween. a story I’ve never forgotten, and never told anyone. This is the story he told me that night, right before he disappeared forever. A story that got into my bones and has haunted me since. The story of how he murdered a great deal of people and get away with it, all in the name of Halloween.
Kim Pak is heading in to work for the day as a nurse at a Hospital in North Korea.
She gets in the elevator and hits the 14th floor button, just as she sees her boss rushing to get the door.
She holds it open as he reaches it and he half steps in, and without warning the door closes.
Thing is, it closes on his head and hands.
He begins to scream.
Now normally, an elevator door has a sensor, but anything with a long enough shelf life will eventually break down at some point,
convenience be damned.
And wouldn’t you know it, that’s what happened there, in that elevator, on that fateful day.
Eerily, it could happen to any of us any time we use an elevator, but it happens to Kim Pak’s boss.
The sensor breaks.
And no one knows why or how.
Now Kim is frantic and panic-stricken, because her boss is screaming because the door has clamped his head and his hands NSIDE the elevator.
He is begging to be saved, and she is pushing the STOP button and the OPEN THE DOOR button but nothing is happening.
They are both hysterical at this point.
They are screaming., and it has attracted the attention of more people at the hospital, who have gathered outside the door and are trying to help in any way they can.
And suddenly, without warning, the elevator begins to go up.
Kim Pak falls backward and lands on her ass with a heavy THUD.
And her boss is looking her dead in the eyes, and for some odd reason, she can’t look away.
she is looking him straight in the eyes.
Now you would think what happens next isn’t possible, but the thing is, it happened.
The elevator reaches the break between floors,
and instead of stopping, it pushes and pushes,
until the elevator door decapitates her boss,
causing his body to fall outside the elevator,
and his head and hands TO FALL INSIDE THE ELEVATOR,
with Kim Pak, where she remains trapped with the severed head of her boss for THREE HOURS.
Take that in for a second.
I mean REALLY think it over.
Being trapped in an elevator with the severed head of your boss in insane to try to grasp.
Some people hate their bosses, but who would would want to sit in an elevator with the severed head of their boss for hours?
A three hour span that must have felt like 5 lifetimes.
Three hours that must have felt like a horror movie, stuck on pause.
Three hours as his dead eyes flicker, blood gushing from his severed arteries.
By the time they pried opened the doors of the elevator, the woman would not respond.
She had basically snapped. Lost her mind.
Sitting inside the elevator, pale and frozen, with the head of her boss, eyes open and affixed on her. His dead eyes staring her in the eyes, the whole time.
Now no one but Kim Pak can know what happened inside that elevator for three hours, but his open eyes must have assured she never slept again..
Thing is, we will never know.
What we do know as a result of this, though, is *elevators are f*cking evil.
Ima stick to the stairs from now on, thank you very much.
If this was a late-night talk show, and I had to monlogue a joke about this, I would fix my tie and say:
“There is one kinda head I want to get in an elevator, and that is not it!” But I will refrain from making that terrible joke.
And for the non-believers, this is, by no means, the only true story of elevator decapitations.
It happens WAY more than any of us would like to admit.