Friday, 19 August 2011

  • Suicide is the Answer!

    I actually have no idea what I'm meant to be writing under this title, however, you, as the audience, considering you clicked it, must have some expectations. As I'm a very generous, selfless, and extremely considerate person, I will do my very best to fulfill every possible expectation cast on this post's title upon being clicked by my vast diversity of readers.

    If you're a pathetic, self indulgent, depressed, uncharacteristic teenage girl suffering an apparent life crisis (which could be quite easily defined as "spider in my room" in most cases), then, clicking this post, you must be looking for suicide tips. Now, here's my take on suicide; if you're going to leave this life by choice, then be original, be creative, do it with a bang! The old paracetamol overdose, or noose around the neck jumping off a chair tricks just don't hit the headlines anymore. Hell, if you've decided to commit suicide in the first place, you probably already think that no one gives a shit about you; do you really want that to still be the case even when you're six feet under? No, so here's a few methods, tips, and tricks, to help your "suicide" become "the suicide":

    One; make sure you die. Nothing worse than failing at your own death (except having Justin Bieber as your ringtone, but yeah, that's beside the point); I mean, considering you're already committing suicide, you're probably a failure at everything else, right? So for once in the last few minutes of your life, wouldn't it make sense to do something successfully? Hang on, since you're committing suicide, you're probably retarded and possess the inability to answer the simplest of questions, so I'll answer that for you; yes, it would, and there's actually a very simple tip to make sure it happens! Make a plan B, yes, a plan B. No, there's no such thing as fate, if your suicide fails, it does not mean that God wants you to live on, or that you have a new purpose in life, in fact, it means you're a complete fucking moron to the extent that you couldn't even facilitate your own death correctly. Plan Bs can range from contracting cancer, AIDs, or any other lethal disease before attempting your suicide- you may even decide to pack a gun and blow your brains out if things don't go as planned. Remember, failing to plan, is planning to fail (yes, this also applies to suicide)!

    Two; be creative. No one wants to know about a fat chick who choked herself to death with her dad's belt one Sunday morning before going to Church, however, if this same fat chick got her tits stuck in the doorway to McDonald and died from internal bleeding followed by a sudden heart attack; wouldn't that be just fucking awesome horrid? Or wait, if she choked herself with her dad's belt in McDonald, damn, that would be scandalous. But of course, my examples are rendered pointless, why the hell would a fat chick ever commit suicide? Hell, they have the biggest dreams of us all! A pun; geddit'? Fat chicks... "biggest" dre- oh fuck you guys.

    Three; have fun! Why commit suicide and leave the fun out of it?! It's the last day of your life... throw a party, call some hookers, slap your boss in the face, maybe even run a ginger over (no, I'm kidding, don't run gingers over, they have souls!)... of course, the only down side to this, is after having "fun", you may realize how stupid ending your own life is, that it's precious in its own way, that you actually do want to live, and that it's completely ridiculous to abandon the breath of even one day because of one recent downhill slope. Think about your mother pushing you out of her asshole vagina- that shit was painful (unless you were the eleventh child or later, it would have been pretty easy by then) and is enough of a reason as any other to treasure your life.

    If you're a normal person, I have no clue what the fuck you expected me to be writing about in this post, but considering the average human only cares about themselves, it was probably for entertainment. I hope reading about fat chicks and cancer has entertained you sick, twisted people.

    If you're a pro-life activist, then you probably dropped by to write a fucking essay in the comments section regarding my title's attitude towards respecting human life. Go for it fuckers, just don't expect me to read it... and seriously, stick to a few paragraphs, don't be pricks and leave a whole fucking novel.

     

    A nice day to y'all.

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