Hello Darkness! The Official Blog of Helen Keller

Folks, I've seen this too many times and I figure it's about time to bring it to your attention. I'm talking about these...people who exist in our society, but have yet to be held down and had filing cabinets launched downward from cranes onto their pointy little foreheads. Somehow, they've eluded God, the all-seeing eye of Sauron and natural fucking selection itself in order to continue to exist in all of their glorious stupidity here on Earth.

People who like Anime

These people need to snag their lip on the side of an out-of-control dumptruck. Somehow, there are people out there who embrace shitty epileptic animation with god-awful storylines as though it were the pinnacle of storytelling. (For those on dickhead patrol, the RDF logo is simply a throwback to the 80's...piss off.) I've seen Akira. While it certainly is novel to watch cartoons get waxed with machine guns, the rest of the story unfolds like a burst hemorrhoid. Some dude's kid brother is in a hospital, next he's a massive fucking blob and I never really figured out who Akira actually is, but fuck it, I didn't have time to solve the Jesus whodunnit in the Bible either.

That's essentially what's wrong with anime. The stories are too over-reaching, everybody looks the same and there's more character development watching two homeless losers wrestle over a peach-pit. God knows I've watched but a few of them in my day, so I can safely speak about all of them. But moreover, I'm talking about the people who like anime. Usually they're men with big tits. I don't know why, but liking anime tends to trigger a late-bloom female puberty in men and on with the titties. And the pretense involved with liking Anime. It's wine for the off-the-scale nerd. Quite frankly, anime is unrelatable to any normal person on the face of the Earth and consequently, the avant-nerd relishes in the obscurity of their chosen love. Listen to them, and they'll use horribly twisted English punctuated by Japanese words to describe anime. "It's got an even depth to it and the shokatsua* balances the end-story nicely." It's the only time they really get to say something other than, "Hey, give me back my back-pack you jerk."

*To the nerd fretfully searchng their Japanese/English dictionary, I made it up you dork.

People decide what they want to order only when the get to the front of the line

There should be a new law enacted which would entrust the general public with feeding the attached eyebrows through a paper-shredder upon the Court of Public Opinion guilty verdict of not knowing what the fuck you're ordering despite standing in line for 10 minutes at McDonald's. My fuck. People who stand in line yammering about their overly worthless lives just a little too loud (teenage girls, this would be you) as though the rest of the world gives a shit have a duty to at least partake in a cursory examination of the giant menu before reaching the front. For fuck's sake, nothing's worse than two people who EACH don't know what the fuck they want but continue to have a long and informed debate about the merits of each. "Well, I don't know, I had a Big Extra on Thursday, maybe I'll have a...(dull retard stare at menu)...no, how about a...(dull retard stare resumes)...what are you having Susan?" "Oh, I don't know Brenda, I'll just have a pickle...do you sell pickles? But are you getting fries, I don't want fries if you're not going to have some..." Repeat for 4 minutes with two stunned morons making fish-faces with their index finger firmly planted on the chin.

McDonald's and other fast food restaurants should employ a large burly man whose sole job is to grab idiots by an arm and a leg, swing them around airplane-ride style before hurling them into traffic. Trust me, society is not going to be at a loss if these people don't show up for their haircutting job the next day.

People who ask the Blockbuster attendant "if this movie is any good" once they reach the front of the line

This is an offshoot of the above one. Wow. Just once I'd like to see a cashier look one of the cocks dead in the eye and say, "No, that one fucking sucks big floppy donkey dick. Smear some pigeon shit on your screen instead. You'll save 6 bucks and see the same thing. Also, while I'm dispensing free advice, put the bag of Clodhoppers back, your immense fatness crammed into an airbrushed sweatshirt of a Scottie dog makes me throw up a little in my mouth." If I were in the store, I'd echo that with a loud, "Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Jay in Clerks style.

People who deposit their children at the pet-store like it's a daycare while they just "whip into the Bombay store for a quick minute"

I'm a softy. When at the mall, I enjoy sneaking a quick peek at the puppies. Puppies are innocent souls who haven't realized the idiocy of the world into which they've been born. Perhaps I'm envious. But from now on, every time a frazzled mother drops her two kids in front of the puppy section and sneaks off to some other store, I'm going to fire a price tag on the kid's ear, shove said kid into a puppy window and offer it up for sale.

I suspect I would actually be doing a public service. And to get the child back, the mother would be forced to surrender her ovaries. She can have her choice of stapler, dog-bone or pasta-strainer to remove them. Don't say I'm not sporting.

And those folks, are just a small selection of people who should at the very least be sterilized if not fired into the Grand Canyon at comically painted bullseyes on the canyon floor.

Shit, I'm not doing well with endings. But then again, either did John Ritter.