McDeath

McDEATH

I went to McDonald's today, armed with an assault rifle and intending to kill 30 or 40 people. You didn't see me, because I look just like you.

Why didn't I do it? Why didn't I explode through that room in a frenzy of McDeath, pop-pop-popping moms and dads and hot cherry pies?Not because the man at the gun store sold me a clip that would hold only nine bullets. Reloading after nine people is as easy as after 30. For a person in my state of mind, who's really counting anyhow?And not because I caught a sudden glimpse of humanity, seeing all the mommies having lunch with their little darlings. Huh-uh. Not a chance.

I'll tell you why I turned around and went home, the rifle still wrapped in plastic bags in my trunk. I really will. In just a bit.First, let me take a minute to explain myself. Let me tell who I am, and what it took to turn from an Ordinary Person into a monster willing -- wanting even -- to kill other Ordinary Person.

Lots of 'em.

All the berserk killers who went wild one day, the postal workers, the unemployed laborers, the Viet Nam vets, the courtroom murderers, the restaurant homicidal maniacs -- were just Ordinary People one day.

Then they -- like me -- turned into Something Else.

There was a time, you know, when we really were ordinary. We picked up the newspaper, saw a horrible story about a mass shooting and shook our heads. But that was before.

Since then, look at all that has happened:

We've been put down, shouted down, jilted, deprived, ratted on, denied and set aside. The money's gone. The dog's gone. There is no happiness left.We just want to do away with ourselves.

So we stare at the bottom of an empty mug, and ponder life, and fate, and our own humanity. And we find that we have achieved nothing of note, no immortality, no deeds worthy even of the granite slab that will cover our last remains.Whimpering, sniveling, we determine to go out with a bang.

For 15 minutes, we will be Very Important.

In the time it takes to empty two or three clips, we will have impacted more people than we ever did in our entire miserable lives.

Grown men will fear us, women will faint, neighbors will give interviews to TV cameras. We are cleansed of our weakness.

And for a little time, police radios and sirens and red lights will

look just like on TV.

So I went to McDonald's today, armed with an assault rifle, wanting to kill people. I saw you there. Yes you, who now sit there smugly in front of your computer and don't care about me.

I opened the trunk, pulled back the plastic, and looked at the cold black steel and hollow-pointed death. From the pit of my stomach I wanted to kill everyone I could, all those grandma types with the blue hair and the wretched kids who whined because they didn't get the right toy in their Happy Meal.

I looked around, and no one cared.This had all been so easy.

If they cared, I probably could not have purchased this gun, these bullets.

We had grown accustomed to mass shootings, I saw. It was accepted, acceptable, a small price to pay for a freedom.

I knew already what would happen if I went through with it.

Somewhere in California a third-page story would cite a statistic, and in Texas a commentator would be angry, and in Florida it wouldn't even make the news.

And so even pop-pop-popping at McDonald's didn't matter anymore.I guess, for the time being, I did something people did care about. I went home.

I cared -- momentarily.

But, even while you read this, sipping your drink and peering casually at this screen, somebody else is out there buying a gun -- and planning on taking you with them when they go.

Arson

Arson

From an early age I have had an unvarnished,

Immoral desire to nourish the obscene flame.

I discreetly burn my anger, fury

Resentments and irritations.

The gravity of the moment was enticing.

It would be perfect, unblemished, flawless perfection.

There was no premeditation as I lit the match.

I stared at its rhythmic dance

Its elegant glare was inviting.

It was such an attractive reflection, captivating.

Don’t you want to feel all that heat?

The smell was aromatic with destruction in mind.

The anticipation of the moment was pure pleasure.

I was unruffled, steady, composed as I watched the flame

Beg for more timber to consume.

I stared with eyes half closed as the smoldering began to flourish.

With one breath, the flames flicker and quickly ignite into

Dazzling, graceful colors of light.

Don’t you want to touch it?

Like a thief in the night I feel repulsive.

I must liberate myself.

I can not take my eyes away.

I watch from a distance as it begins to

Devour, scorch, and obliterate everything it touches.

I felt such gratification, pleasure as the vibrant flames

Danced poetically higher and higher.

The progression was savage, untamed.

Everything in its path is blackened as it spreads out of control.

A million eyes watching

The most sanitary ecosystem.

It contorts, cleanses, annihilates with deliberate devastation.

Things melt, buckle, and dissolve

In an awe-inspiring spectacular, brutal mutilation.

The colors of the flame have their own private messages.

The untamed rage sends out sparks of pulsing chaos.

Don’t you want to reach for it and examine its perfection?

For them it was repulsive, senseless, needless, ghastly deed.

For me it was a bold, delightful, festive, pleasing, and glorious

Display of crimson colored embers.

The twinkles and flashes obscenely

Transformed into pulsating, vibrating disorder.

I feel satisfied, alive as the unrelenting

Radiant flames incinerate the somber night.

Sirens sound intimidating, yet delightful

Causing my adrenaline to spontaneously burst.

The smell was pungent and spicy

Burning my nostrils with rapture.

Its bold, pleasing wrath

Ruins, devastates and withers.

I wanted it to take me and do its will.

As the turbulent flame was extinguished

Things were no longer dirty, grimy, or contaminated.

The land has been purified,

Made hygienic.

Women over 30

Andy Rooney on 60 Minutes said:


As I grow in age, I value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask,"What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think.

If a woman over 30 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it'susually something more interesting.

A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in whom sheis, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the ageof 30 give a hoot what you might think about her or what she's doing.

Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant.

Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.

A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her womenfriends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women.

Women over 30 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know.

A woman over 30 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 30 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.

Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons.Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 30+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellowpants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress. Ladies, I apologize.

For all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free", here's an update for you. Nowa days 80% of women are againstmarriage, why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire Pig, just to get a little sausage.