I am a true psycho. I eat small animals as lunchmeat. I even know your mom’s name. Yep, I’m crazy. You know, I haven’t always been this way. I used to own a farm of gophers, occasionally eating a few of them for dinner. Then I got bored and moved on to farming bigger animals, like moose and cows, occasionally eating a few of them for dinner. Now that I am overly fat and psychotic, I enjoy strangling little children and molesting them near to death. One day, I thought to myself, “Hmmmmmm, I think I should turn my skin White, instead of this strange brown color”.

And so my adventures of whiteness began. As first act of being White, I decided to get a major plastic surgery done on my huge girth, and something done on my larynx to get rid of that ugly deep voice. Behold, the new ugly monster that had been born!! So I thought to myself, “ Well, now that I’m all ugly (yet strangely good-looking to teenage girls) and high-voiced and stuff, I think I ought to become a star to surround myself with shallow, celebrity loving, idiotic suck-ups, because it’s always been my dream to have fans (which is short for fanatics, which is extremely stupid), but it was just too hard to do that as a psychotic gopher farmer, and furthermore, I believe that when you are a celebrity, you can do whatever you want without getting in trouble, if only because you have millions of girls as fans, who would each love to have the honor of personally bailing you out of jail without a second thought about what it would do to them financially because they are so pathetically obsessed with you, or if the celebrity actually should be locked away from the rest of humanity because they are so amazingly stupid and don’t consider the consequences of their actions before they go off half cocked like a problematic, double-barreled shotgun.”

So after that long single sentenced thought, I continued my journey to gain popularity and success in a never-ending, pathetically stupid world where fame is king, and the rest is boring politics. First I met Brad Pitt. He was a nice guy… so I punched him out cold. Then I met an unconscious version of Brad Pitt. “Hello,” I said, “Have you been here long?” No answer. “Well, Fine!”, I answered as I stepped on his face and then threw him in a dumpster so I could beat his brains out later.

Next, I molested a small child (A boy-I’m gay), and then I paid his parents millions and millions of dollars to tell their son that what happened was perfectly natural and that he should be totally honored to have been touched/grabbed in his groin area, but not to tell anyone about it. Then, he learned his parents had made this story up and figured he could get richer by suing me for a couple more millions of dollars. Wow, small children get less and less naïve (Some, at least). So anyway, now I am famous and have tons of fans that believed me when I said that all of the stories of my child molestation accusations were “big lies”. [Note: this was a piece of an actual quote of this story’s subject. If you don’t know who I’m talking about by now, you should be hit over the head with a bag of processed meat loaf made of manure.]

So, in the end, I learned that being an idiot and conforming to the blind actions of this world that is already going down the tubes as it is, just makes the world worse overall, if that is even possible after politicians came into being.