Trite Sayings I Hate

I try not to let this blog dissolve into the raw, crude venom of "Shit that Chris Hates" because lets face it, if I listed everything I hated I would have to write about fifty thousand words every time I turn on the TV, listen to the radio, overhear conversations between people on the street, see an Eric Lustbader novel for sale or any number of broad categories including at least one that reads "Everything Else, Ever."

But sometimes, the world around me forces me to make the dreaded bullet list.

Today's burnt offering: the trite inspirational, witty, quasi-literate sayings that people give to one another in lieu of thinking of something interesting to say.

First on the chopping block is that delectable morsel of overused tripe "Love is all you need." Sure. And when you are crawling over broken syringes in search of a ten sack of crystal meth and you look over at your boyfriend's scabrous cock hanging out of his piss and blood stained boxers and you wonder why the baby stopped crying like, 10 hours ago, remember-you love him. Get a life. Exist independently. It's possible-if you aren't so hung up on connecting sex organs that you throw away everything else.
REVISED: Love is all you need, except for Food, Water, Shelter, Oxygen, and a good relationship with the Almighty. And Drugs. Need Drugs.

Next in the cattle chute, "Just be yourself." This is based on a false premise-namely, that anyone likes you. I mean, should a child molester just "be himself?" What about the fratboys hooting and making humping motions on overloaded, beer soaked balconies? I don't like those choads; I don't want them to be themselves. I desperately want them to be well armed and well trained scumfucks looking for a charismatic leader. In fact, I should put out a craigslist ad - Charismatic Leader seeks Local Scumfucks for fun and improvised munitions. No Rascists. One thing I'm sure of, I'd never put out a craigslist ad for more Fratboys. That's the last thing this town needs.
REVISED: "Be Yourself, Unless You Are A Fucking Douchebag"


And last in line, slipping on the guts of the previous two, here is the classic: "Follow your dreams." I really think this is a hell of a line to hand en masse to the kids in our schools. I mean, how do they know what your dreams are? Maybe some kids dream of being president or famous actors or finding love, but you know there is always one kid whose dream is to burn you all. And here you are, like a jackass, telling him to follow his dream of hearing your fat pop and sizzle under a huge burning beam. Thats frivolous use of that line, right there-and those aren't the only unpleasant dreams that you might be encouraging people to follow. So in other words,when I kick in a dormitory door and start taking slave girls for my sultry Arabian nights style harem and stacking them up like cordwood next to the hookah, remember-I'm only following my childhood dreams.
REVISED: Follow your dreams to the extant that it is socially acceptable, or learn to be really good at avoiding police. Other than that, yer fucked. Sorry homie.


So the next time someone speaks to you and you are inclined to respond with a tacky cliche instead of thinking, use the one Jared and I have decided to use for all purposes-"Cuz I like to party." I'm serious-it works for every situation. You may get a few odd looks at funerals, of course, but hey-everyone knows where you stand.