We all have a little masochist in us.
It all depends on what your particular choice of whip is.
I currently have a thing going with an odd combination of Judo and popcorn.
Long story, one beats you up from the outside, the other from deep inside your bowels.
But this isn’t about me.
This is the story of Icarus and Beyonce.
You may ask why I chose those names.
Because I have been sitting next to them for the last half hour and I can think of no better names for them.
Icarus is a suffering artist.
However, lets adjust our definitions of suffering, shall we?
The iPhone 5S on the table in front of him is in a case that I know for a fact costs about $200.
Sitting next to them is a keyring with a Mercedes smart key.
And he is whining like a bitch in heat non-stop about how his parents don’t take him seriously.
He appears to be in his late 20’s.
You figure if they aren’t going to take him serious by now, give it up, they aren’t going to.
Like a set of fake wings, this no real ambition, no talent, overly entitled little shit is expecting to fuck around for his whole life, then magically wake up some morning and the world will prostrate itself at his feet in recognition of…what? (Ok, so the Icarus imagery is pretty weak, but it remains a solid shitty nickname, I hate him already.)
Good question, lets get back to that later.
And then theres Beyonce.
She has ridiculously high maintenance bitch written all over her.
And, judging by her self-absorbed ramblings the entire time Ikarus has been going thru his period, it hasn’t pulled her away from her true vocation, worshiping herself.
She may even be more talented than the real Beyonce, the original no-talent golden calf the media has been shoving down our throats ever since she fired the girls in Destiny’s Child for not being named Beyonce.
Wow. Even I am impressed by the pissy angst in that little sentence.
Icarus is beginning to rub off on me.
I need to get out of here before Beyonce rubs off on me.
Add her diva attitude to my mouth and someone would kill me inside of an hour.
I am enough of an ass, I don’t need the help.
Back to the kids.
I am beginning to see a theme to the bitching.
As near as I can figure, it has something to do with corporations keeping him from getting a gallery show for his art.
Christ, not this shit again, like this couple wasn’t worthless enough.
As you may be able to tell if you’ve been paying attention, I don’t view the Occupy movement with any sort of respect.
Mainly because I don’t respect that “unwashed welfare takes a holiday”.
But that is a story for another time.