Hotdogs

Satirical piece from the viewpoint of a perceptive thinker who is apart of a generation that is taught to be emotionless and hollow, devoid of emotions.

Woke up, breath reeking of four or five Bud Lights from last night. The taste on my tongue fondly reminds me of a mixture of vomit and elementary school hot dogs. I once threw up in first grade because of the cafeteria hot dogs; altered a six year old’s perspective on cafeteria school lunches. F**k you E.G. Lyons Elementary, your food was God awful. Even though your food will probably end up giving me long lasting health issues before I reach the age of 60 (honestly, what the f**k were in those chicken patties?) I still credit you for the people that inhabited our crappy school. Snotty nose, bad-mouthing, disrespectful, low middle class a******s. But, we were YOUR snotty nose, bad mouthing, disrespectful, low middle class a******s, the love was real. You were our crappy kingdom, and we were your s****y princes and princesses.

I credit you for the three long life friends you’ve given me. I credit you for the countless memories you’ve ingrained in my brain, that I can recount to a tee without bursting into tears from laughing too f*****g hard. Like the time Kayla “accidentally” brought her kitten to school in her backpack. I’m telling you, that girl was tapped. Or the time Mikey ran outside during class, because he was pissed off that his 4th grade skinny-minny latina girlfriend Andrea, broke up with him. That kid was a f*****g badass. Or he had severe anger issues that he’s currently dealing with today, either or really. Or how about the Wrestlemania-esque showdowns between feeble Ms. King, our music teacher versus the inaugural E.G. Lyons Elementary queen/badass/rebel/legend Jashauana. I’ll never witness such anger in a 10 year old girl as long as I live. Jashauna takes the cake. With a name like Jashauana, I’d have a f*****g chip on my shoulder too.

That’s what I credit you the most for Lyons. This boulder sized chip on my f*****g shoulder. Without it I’d probably become a sellout Uncle Tom like one of my closest friends, Josh. Pandering and kissing the a*s of every relatively rich white person he meets (I still love him though). Or I could have become hooked on hard drugs like my 6th grade literacy buddies Mike and Austin, the two craziest white kids you’ll ever encounter. But I’m not them, and I thank God for that. This burden enables the geeky class clown with deceptive wit and smarts, but with zero motivation, to see right through most of you millennial a******s.

Most of you aren’t cut from the same cloth I am. It’s the age of f*****g instant gratification, and you idiots knowingly thrive off that crap. I cared enough to analyze all of you, but not enough to do anything about it. There’s no salvaging what is left of your long departed brain cells. But I can aid you reach self-realization in regards to how incompetent you all are. That’s essentially what I am here for, I’m the last of a dying breed. I’m the golden child here to inform you on how empty all of you m***********s actually are, and how exceptional I am. Believe me, somewhere deep down; internally I know I suck. But that’s the thing, the great battle of insight versus unawareness, I know I suck but you a******s are oblivious in regards to how s****y you are. That instantly makes me better than you. Let me help knock you down a peg or 10, and bring you down to the real world with me, where we can all be authentic human beings with genuine feelings. Sit down, put your feet up, and enjoy a s****y E.G. Lyons cafeteria hot dog. I’m going to make you puke.

I probably have about four endearing qualities, one of them being that I am perceptive as f**k. It’s truly a blessing and a curse. On one hand I can immediately tell if someone is bullshitting me. Or if they’re putting on a stupid front.  Or if someone is rambling about some kind of bullshit, that they don’t  believe in. Yeah, I can do that. I can disarm someone’s imaginary guard that they’ve held up for so long, and probably tell them more insightful s**t about their own life that they never even knew.

The nightmarish side to being perceptive in this generation is that it feels like everyone who surrounds you has on these stupid rose-coloured glasses and you’re the only one who comprehends that this world is going to s**t. Guess I sound bitter, I must be depressed. Maybe I need to get laid. Maybe I’m angry, misguided, and wasn’t loved enough as a child. Maybe I don’t love myself.  Those are the kinds of things that these hypocritical a******s will make you try to believe, because you think differently than them. They’ll put you in a f*****g box, and make you apologize for thinking different than the majority. I don’t need people to understand me nor agree with me, but for God’s sake think for yourself.

I can’t tell you how many mindless twenty-something  robots I encounter on a daily basis. These androids will spew information to you and pass it off as “original” information they found on Buzzfeed and think it formulated in their own brain. They’ll passive aggressively expect you to abide by it too. They don’t even believe the s**t that comes out of their own mouth. Your empty unoriginal thoughts can’t rival my perceptive thinking. In order to learn you have to feel. It’s beautiful and agonizing to be in touch with your feelings and see the world through your own set of lenses. It can be a lonely road at times. You’re waiting for the millennial zombies to realize their potential and come play with you, but they can’t hear you screaming to wake the f**k up. They can’t hear you because they’re conditioned by their other zombie peers who are just as empty as they are. It’s a vicious cycle and I’m stuck in the middle of it.

Author's Note

Just writing whatever came to mind. Still a rough draft, hopefully more to come...

Reviews

[Will Drivel]

Three questions
What are your other three "endearing" qualities?
What was the box (they put you in and you subsequently climbed out of) labelled?
How do you know your opinions are not the product of your education from the people with long departed brain cells?

A comment or two.
It does't make enough sense.
Repeatedly swearing can impress the reader with the author's depth of feeling or just limit the appeal. Describing anger in common terms that bite is much more difficult.
Slagging some one because they wear rose-coloured glasses does not work when you admit to having your own set of lenses. Originality is unaided.
You can't credit the educators for the pupils they end up with..and yet as a pupil you are affected.
There is something, and I haven't worked out what the "something" is yet, in this.
So "stuck in the middle" original insightful, insight me.

[TL Boehm]

There is this wonderful angsty/biting humor throughout this and it is a relevant topic. that first paragraph is especially brilliant.
Just my opinion since this is a rough draft - if you revisited - smoothed out the "f" bombs this piece would really shine.