So yes, I clicked one of those “Experience the intensity” adds all over the place and began my journey by forking over all necessarry information to stalk me. After everything was installed I immediatly chose what I percieved to be the dorkiest named, most over-populated Role Playing server: Moon Feather.  The game held my hand until it was time to make my own little virtual likeness of me; but something told me that wouldn’t be as fun, so I made a black guy with long hair named “Balsaque” and made his job to throw flaming testicles while bitching to the tank about how he’s supposed to follow the mage’s orders AND THE MAGE’S ORDERS ONLY. So it began: The Black Mage Balsaque on his quest for fame. (See what I did there?)

My first instinct was to pawn everythig but my ball-throwing hand and my twatting stick (Bent Staff) for copper, which was apparently very wise because no one ever touched me any ways so I’m guessing it was just for laughs that they gave me such a gay starting color. After burning a couple of Bambi’s roomies and selling any reward I got for doing that, I had graduated to level four at which point I had gotten bored and turned the game off. But then something strange happened: I went back. I knew it was boring, I knew that the glow of leveling up didn’t phase me and I know I could have much more fun throwing balls at other things, but I still went back.

And here’s why: you can macro /spit (it makes you spit) to a key. This being a roleplaying server, everybody who’s anybody has reached the level cap and is now trolling Goldshire (place after starting place) and is either dueling other trolls or dancing naked on the tables. This is what prompted a need for such efficient spitting; THIS IS WHAT PEOPLE ARE ADDICTED TO. Because dwarves are the WOW equevillant (oops I misspelled a word, guess I’m a leftist cunt now) to dirty poor people, and therefore do not deserve any of the weapons, armor, spells or BEARDS they own, they were my first targets. I began spitting with machine gun speed on a douchebag who was dueling with what looked like a purple version of my own Balsaque The Black Mage. This being an RP server, he did not directly insult me, instead told me to, “Aye, would ya kindly stop spittlin’ on me, maty?” I did not speak this filth’s language, but I knew it was a threat. I stopped and waited for him to make the first move; his beard stared into the blackness of my skin and his purple Balsaque (who was NOT a black mage) said, “I think he’s typing something.” By reflex, I fired. There has never been such a brutal barrage of spitting on dirty dwarves that I have seen, and I hope I never do. The immature bastards thought it a funny way to retort with a spamming of the duel option. All it does is bring up a little box that asks if you wanna duel, but I knew the real meaning behind it. 

I retreated into the inn, where they had apparently laid a lag trap. After my computer recovered I realized that it was an army of dancing fauns that had tried to kill my computer. I let them revel in their failure, not making a physical move, but instead saying, “Quit dancing dickheads,” that struck a nerve, because I was lagged to death by ten fauns simultaniausly reporting me for something or something.

And that was it, I left to write this article. I figured I had enough material to make it funny. But really, all I learned from this experience is that 1) Dwarves are disgusting 2) Nerds are dwarves 3) I am neither 4) RP servers are really sad places and 5) all the cool kids play Finaly Fantasy XI.

I’m a level 15 Monk bitches.

All of these are out of a week (168 hours)

4 hours- School

56 hours- sleep

(presumably) 4 hours- church

(usually) 14 hours- extracurricular activities

(random estimate) 2 hours- Chores

10 hours- Riding bus to and from school

Note: while it does seem unfair to count sleep, it still takes away from personal time.

That’s 80 hours out of 168, not even counting the amount of time most teen girls spend dolling themselves up. Reason I bring this up is not the argument “It gives no time for their lives” because your restrictions have already taken away possibilities of that happening. I mention this because there is so much time dedicated to school and the preparation for it that there is no real life experience being gained while being dragged by the collar, obediently or otherwise, for the “sake of one’s future” that’s not even decided by them. Now, I have been told that letting teens free to choose what they do would be an atrocity; the idea of freedom in the most creative and passionate stage of humanity is scary, but the kids are making the same mistakes you claim they will fall into even with school. Not to be rude, but it doesn’t seem like your magic schools are preventing anything other then that that needs to happen (needs to happen meaning, talent, creativity, intelligence, etc.). That aside, the lessons in school are laughable at bloody best; you continually say you will refuse to preach, but I have not met one teacher (other then my math teachers, who don’t count because math is universal and that’s cheating) that hasn’t put their own aside of socialist droplets into their long-dried well of knowledge. I have been told time and again that man cannot live without others, without government, without regulation; I have been told time and again that I am being poisoned by the propaganda of every single conceivable source, the ones casting the blame not daring looking in on their own image in fear that they are what they hate so much. But no, I say that they, those who teach falsehoods of man’s needs, are far from what they fear; in fact I do believe that they are in every since what they have wanted to be so badly. But even when all their aspirations of lobotomized youth have been met they still say that the product of this work is not final, that it is not under enough control to be suitable for the future. It should be plainly obvious by now that schools do nothing but what you want them to, but they also do nothing but take away from kid’s dreams so it is time to ask yourself whether or not it is worth it to condemn the emotionally distraught teen’s futures to desk jobs and taxi drivers for the sake of suppressing the passion that spawns the ability to teach ones self.    

1. The last day of school a girl got raped on campus during school hours.

2. Twelve Juggalos celebrated getting out of Juvanile detention by beating up an Iraqi exchange student, breaking his collar bone and several ribs. None of them were arrested.

3. I am gonna be stuck with the rest of the gangs in my town, as compared to only having to deal with half the gangs in my old school; I usually aren’t scared of thugs but these guys punched my friend’s two front teeth out for spreading a youtube video. They got fifty hours of community service.

So yeah, being trapped in a government bunker for eight hours with these lunatics ain’t my cup of fuckin’ tea!

“But Danny!” you say, “They need an education just like you!”

And I respond, “I’m already paying their welfare checks, do I have to give you money to drop out of High School AND be your punching bag?” The answer should be no, but that of course will change within the presidential election, as I have heard that Barack Obama ( being the bastard he is) is going to publisize College. Way to fucking go, Mr. Obama, we might as well fucking subsidize Girls Gone WIld. Eventually we won’t even be able to make the goddamned dumb assess drop out, we’ll just have to let the retarded, violent, irresponsible savages be a fucking CEO of Boeing because “Everyone deserves a chance,” EVERYONE GETS A CHANCE, WE DON’T NEED TO MAKE EVERYONE ELSE SUFFER TO GET THEM TO USE IT!

Not really, I don’t blame you, I love you; please don’t walk away!

I have been alive for 15 years now, and in all of them I have heard maybe two bands that came about (as in were formed) in the 2005-2008 area that had a strong emotional pressence to most of the songs they do: We Are Scientists and Flyleaf. Now, when I say “strong emotional presence” I consider emotional on a diffrent plain then emo. Emotional means it has feeling, it has mood, as if the song itself were self aware… or something like that. Emo doesn’t mean emotional, while there may be some emotional emo bands out there, I don’t know none, all I know is that shit heads, as an example, Scary Kids Scaring Kids like to make music that pretends to sympathize with dicks that have “shitty lives filled with more pain then you could imagine” (psshhh) because they’re not so fucking popular cheer leaders are begging to blow them. Apart from the emotionless emos, there are the pop stars (pop stars starve pop?) and by now you should have figured out that I am about to be a dick towards Miley Cyrus. I assume that since nobody would attempt to ride Billy-Ray’s achey-brakey-shitty-cunt of a “heart” that she was immaculatly concieved through his mullet; anyways, because that wasn’t bad enough, someone gave her a voice synthesizer and a song writer and said, “There ya go, Destiny (who the dick names their kid that?) now we can infest the next generation with enough false optimism to make it considered an STD. Now all you need is a dog’s name and fuck Nick Jonas just to bitch about it later and the ritual is complete!”

Gonna buy a tank and an aeroplane, when she catches up with me won’t be no time to explain, thinks I talk shit about her and that’s enough to drive her half insane.

Bottom line, music should be made as a reflection of one’s self not of that person’s bad memories, teenage years, insecurities and especially not the audience. Atleast not all the time.

Why the hell are we bending over backwards to shove a descent movie up our ass holes so it can be covered in a nice shining coat of shit that the retards who think it’s funny will watch, as if seeing an askewed as hell version of a work of fucking art is teaching them about the old times. We shouldn’t change things because we want stupid people to enjoy it, if stupid people wanna enjoy something that requires intelligence to understand, they need to read a book or get some freaking brain food or listen to Iron Maiden so they can! All we’re doing by dumbing things down is telling them it’s okay to be a mindless idiot, it’s okay to destroy art and it’s okay to irreverantly steal and mame someone’s masterpiece. “But Danny, are we really hurting them that much if we slut up the brothel dance just a smidge?” Yes! If you have to turn the opera house into Johnny Bling-Bling’s fucking masterbatorium to get him to go there, then you have made a wrong turn at Common Fucking Sense Boulevard.