I see in Fight Club, the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential. And, I see squandering. God damn it! An entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables: slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing car and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy sh** we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man--no purpose or place. We have no great war. No great depression. Our great war's a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars . . . but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact and we're very, very pissed off.
I wash myself with a rag
on a stick.
Posts: 26
(2/8/04 11:14 am) Reply
Re: fan fart
Yam I am. It's a variation on my real name, which I don't really like. Yam sounds much better. And I will get around to making the "real" agent Kootex, but it might take a while.
Farmers would torment him as he snuggled with the hens.
They'd hose him down with water, and steal his little friends.
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