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01/9/25   
Like lamb on acid

Generation-X-O-Cide

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September 15, 2000
Boy have I got a bug in my bonnet, good people!

Once again I've had a run in with some no-goodniks lately. As my regular readers will know, I'm surrounded on all sides by youth trash that just will not give respect where it's due. Some may feel intimidated and back down from the pierced and tatooed larvae that pass for young people these days, but not yours truly. Nor will I.

Two of these miscreants today were loitering with their landsurfboards in front of the Yarn Bungaloo off Highway 62, when me, minding perfectly my own business of mine, became subject to ridicule at the hands of these goofsters. As you may well know, I'm not a tall man--I make no secret of it. I stand proudly at my four feet. But my height has made me a target for hooligans looking to besmirch the good name of Rokwell T. Finger. And these two were of the same ilk.

After years of trying to "get along" and "live in peace" with the young people of today, after searching for viable alternatives, I'm left with one clear choice for our entire nation:

We must annihilate Generation X.

Before you hippies and pacifists begin your whining, I've heard it all before. I can't "come on and smile on my brother," or "get together and try love one another." I've lost interest in "jumping feet first into the love boat" and "ridin' on the peace train" or "gettin' high off my fuckin' ass" anymore. Generation X is a dark and ugly evil twin to the generation of children America should have raised. Perhaps the good ones are spirited away, in a dimension where we all wear goatees and sleeveless shirts and we are the bad ones, not them. I've seen as much on a documentary on The Learning Channel, but that's not the point. The point is that if we can't get our good kids back, the bad ones must be obliterated for our own sake.

I will no longer stand idly by while our children stand idly around. They are vicious taunters and intolerable smarmy pissants with no respect for anyone. I watched all my friends go to war and some didn't come back. I didn't even get to see some of them off to their deaths since they were of ill health and couldn't trek to Canada to see me before they headed out to war.

If you want to talk about despair and gloom, let's talk about the '60s, you little shits. The horror of long-haired freaks and high beatniks running around loose. Christ, there were even some years I couldn't visit my summer home in Watts. Generation X knows nothing about terror. I've been there. I've had several friends who've described it in detail.

There is only one remedy for a troublesome generation. Instant death! I call on the president to take action and wipe this ugly smirk off the face of America, once at least half of them have procreated to replenish the species. Then again, from what I understand, we may have to go ahead and de-funct the ass of that generation immediately as well.


Quote of the Day
“Love is blindness, deafness, muteness, retardation, spinal bifida, shingles, crotch rot, Alzheimer's, malaria, gout, rubella…”

-Doctor Love
Fortune 500 Cookie
Don't spit, shit, or knit into the wind this week; as a matter of fact—stay out of the wind entirely. And those gibberish Mariachi lyrics you've been humming for the last three years—time to give that a rest. You will be mortified this week to discover that the family camping trips you've been repressing since childhood were the inspiration for Brokeback Mountain, and that you're not actually related to your uncle Phil. This week's lucky colas: Mister Flat, Diet Riot, Vanilla RBX174, Buurp, Cherry Fairy, PreP, Pepsi-dAC.


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