Nut Job Dish Pig
The problem I had with most of the nut cases I buddied up with was they had no vision. When my life was an empty pit I moved into a caravan park with my mental uncle. We bonded over being disturbed and hung out with an ex-cop gunslinger we called Bipolar Bill. He tried to teach me to become a driving instructor but I didn't follow through because we were both bonkers. Bonkers Bill.
We were all trying to get our shit together but it's impossible when you're surrounded by mad cunts. You can see that they're mad and they can see you're full of shit. You only have each other and it's not enough. I put it to you that being around the insane is not ideal therapy.
We couldn't take each other seriously. Ever been in a room with a bunch of fruit bats judging each other? It's splendid. So you move on, but sooner or later you're with the next group of mad people who won't tolerate you and that you can't stand.
You get into each others' heads and offer advice. Fruit loops helping each other out. But what else are you going to do? You've gotta have friends.
One mad friend it was years and years later I worked out he was mad. I couldn't see that because unlike most fuck caps he had vision. He probably had too much vision actually. He introduced me to the kind of megalomania that usually results in suddenly finding yourself washing dishes in a shitty restaurant and feeling very concerned indeed about not knowing how you got there.
Anyway nothing cures grandiosity like being paid not enough to wash dishes.
What I'm saying is Capitalism's abuse of the vulnerable was my mental health plan.
Amen.
We were all trying to get our shit together but it's impossible when you're surrounded by mad cunts. You can see that they're mad and they can see you're full of shit. You only have each other and it's not enough. I put it to you that being around the insane is not ideal therapy.
We couldn't take each other seriously. Ever been in a room with a bunch of fruit bats judging each other? It's splendid. So you move on, but sooner or later you're with the next group of mad people who won't tolerate you and that you can't stand.
You get into each others' heads and offer advice. Fruit loops helping each other out. But what else are you going to do? You've gotta have friends.
One mad friend it was years and years later I worked out he was mad. I couldn't see that because unlike most fuck caps he had vision. He probably had too much vision actually. He introduced me to the kind of megalomania that usually results in suddenly finding yourself washing dishes in a shitty restaurant and feeling very concerned indeed about not knowing how you got there.
Anyway nothing cures grandiosity like being paid not enough to wash dishes.
What I'm saying is Capitalism's abuse of the vulnerable was my mental health plan.
Amen.
Comments
Post a Comment