--=It’s official, God Module can do no wrong=--

I have been battling this huge ass headache for the last three hours or so. It comes, it goes.

I have come to the conclusion that when I go to work, they need to give me a Show Drink. Anyone here familiar with the concept of Show Drinks?

Ok, don’t ask me how I know this…when you are a stripper at a really shitty club, and I mean like REALLY bad, I am talking dance floor made of plywood, party balloons in the condom machine bad, from what I am told, it is a pretty standard practice to give said…er, entertainer a free drink based solely on the concept that they actually showed up for work as opposed to doing the more obvious alternative which is staying home and figuring out the most sure fire way of killing themselves in a fit of despair inspired by wondering what the hell happened to their life.

Yeah, so my work has a similar effect on me and I think it’d be a nice gesture if they gave ME a Show Drink. I don’t actually drink though, so maybe I could get like a Show Cream Soda and a handful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Ok, if you all never do anything else for me as long as you live, do this- Go to the grocery store, get a bottle of IBC Cream Soda, get a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and eat it with the soda. It is an experience of Earthly delights that you will never, in a non sexual context, surpass. I am toying with the idea of using the cream soda in place of actual milk, I’ll let you know how that turns out.

One of the things that is bugging me lately at work is this guy that I don’t know his real name. This happens to me a lot, I have NO CLUE what peoples names are because people just think I have this magical form of telepathy that tells me what their names are. I even have people get pissed off at me, assuming I damned well ought to know who they are, based solely on the fact that they know who I am. Now, it’s not like I think I am a freaking celebrity or anything, but I know I do stand out and as such, I am easier to remember than say Twat Waffle Wearing A Wumpscut T-Shirt ID Number 2,200,546,878,989,541 who approaches me randomly at a club. I mean, if you saw a clown running down the street, on fire, with a live dolphin jammed up his ass, you’d remember that right? But what the hell makes you think he is going to remember you, what with the dolphin up the ass and all. That’s me, right there. I am a clown with a fish up my ass, and no one understands my pain, it is THAT awesome.

Anyway, back to what I was saying, I don’t know this guys name, so I assigned him a mental designation of ‘Shit In My Pants’. The reason I call him this is that there is one of these guys in EVERY office in the nation, someone whose role is to do nothing but know EVERYONE who walks through the door, make insipid small talk with them, and all the while act as though they are so thrilled by all the inconsequential, banal pleasantries that they are about lose lower valve control and shit in their pants.

Anyway, every time he sees me, if I happen to be so stupid as to make eye contact with him, he runs over and calls me something so ass itchingly stupid that I am loathe to even repeat it…he comes up and calls me “My precious brother!” as though he and I share some deep history together, or I saved his life in Nam or something. I mean, I’d maybe call like one person on this planet that, and it would be my actual brother, and I’d fully expect him to move to another time zone afterwards on account of suspected overwhelming gayness. “My precious brother.” What the hell is that even about?

Also, why the hell is it that certain people smell like charred burritos? I had a girlfriend once like that. It was one of those acquaintances that you have been waiting YEARS to get a crack at, then when it actually happens you discover that there is some really great reason not to actually go through with it. Hers was the burritos smell. The thing was, she WAS hot, but every time I was getting ready to do the business I ended up smelling her and going “Man…you mind if we go get a soft taco instead?”

Who knows why she smelled like tacos/burritos. Only god knows, but what I do know is this- You can’t mix tacos and sweet, sweet love making. The two were meant by god to be exclusive pleasures, and mixing the two is an abomination.

I also had this whole tirade about Goth after I read something stupid that Kirsty Alley said in an interview in People magazine. I ended up having to read this stupid magazine at work because I ran out of other material to read and I figured that reading anything at all was better than letting my brain atrophy due to low usage. I was wrong.

Before I launch into this, here is a disclaimer- I consider myself Goth. I use the designation because it is an easy, general classification that is easily recognized. I really hate when you see some whining jackass, wearing a ton of vinyl and black eyeliner, and you call them Goth and they get all indignant because, ostensively , they are SO original that they transcend any attempt at classification. Look you pussy, you are wearing the same clothes as roughly 500,000 other weenies around the globe, trust me, you're not above being lumped into a category.

Also, screw anyone out there who makes up bullshit sub-categories to make themselves appear more obscure. Rivit heads are the fucking worst for this.

"Excuse me, but I must point out that as a Fien Flug fan, I am Power Noise, not a Rivet Head"

Look, don't try to church it up kay? I love industrial, possibly more than any other music form on the planet, but industrial fans are probably the biggest group of obsessive ass nerds alive. They go out and have to find bands that no one else has ever heard of, then blather incessantly about how genius the band is. If said industrial fan is a DJ, they will play this band, night after night, bitching that no one recognizes the greatness of the band, then when other people start dancing to the band, they get all pissy and complain about how THEY were the first ones to know about them, everyone else is a poser, and the band has sold out.

What really bothers me more than all this though, is how people who are NOT Goth at all, don't live any portion of the lifestyle in ANY capacity, love to go around touting their "Goth Side". You probably know someone like this. I know I have a few.

I don't have a problem with normal people having interest in the Goth scene. I don't have a problem with people who don't look like they are trying to outdo a panda bear in a rings around the eye sockets eyeliner competition showing up at clubs. I honestly think that no matter who you are, or what you look like, you should be able to mingle, have a good time, and not be looked down upon, but here is what DOES piss me off; When someone who looks completely normal, has a normal house, a normal car, and damned near zero interest in the music goes around extolling Goth and how Goth they are just because they hang around the general vicinity where Goth things be a-happening.

If you don't look as extreme as me, or don't look abnormal in any way, that's great! Looking odd isn't for everyone and I can respect that, but what I can't respect is some jack ass horse feltcher who tries to get the same recognition as an extremist without doing the actual work. It's an insult to me to hear someone think that they are on my level without doing anything to get there. I have also noticed that the people who look the least Goth are inevitably the ones who parade the word around as much as possible.

I don't pull out my Goth card very often, but I will here. The thing is, these people always feel the need to mention their supposed Goth-ness to me, as if I gave a damn. It is always presented to me in the manner of "Oh, I know I don't look it, but I am SO Goth! Just the other day, all my co-workers at Washington Finance and Mutual Funds were remarking on how odd I am for having a Nightmare Before Christmas wrist watch. Of course, I didn't wear it to work, that's against dress code, but I told them about it while we were eating cheese sticks at T.G.I. Mc Pickle Screwers and they just could not believe how whacky I was! You know, I am really the freak around there, I am just SUCH an individual and a NON CONFORMIST"

Yeah guys, go you. You're just the Pancho Villa of the business world, aren't you? Look, as someone who is identifiable from most low flying aircraft as a freak and who has been doing this for more than a decade, I can tell you, this shit just simply doesn't give you the right to think you're a mover and a shaker in the Goth world. As Yoda would say “Burgundy hair and a corset, a Goth does not make”. Another sore point for me is people who are photographers who think that taking pictures of Goths makes them one of us. Very rarely do I quote, but I am compelled to repeat the genius of Fight Club here- “Sticking feathers up your ass does not make you a chicken my friend.” I can go out and take a picture of a stack of 100 dollar bills, but that doesn't make me a millionaire.

Celebrities also have a habit of doing this, thinking that because they do one little thing like wearing a Prada bag that has subdued colors, makes them Goth enough to shit black. Here I am thinking of Christina Ricci or Drew Barrymore. I don’t advocate violence against women, but I would not hold it against ANYONE if they slapped the crap out of her. “This is for making the ‘Wedding Singer’ bitch, and being responsible for ANOTHER generation of 14 year old kids claiming they ‘miss’ the 80’s!!!”

The point is, just having black hair or listening to one crossover band is not enough.

I also recently heard Kirsty Alley talk about how she was "Pretty Goth" because she owned a black dress and liked to wear subdued colors. Ok, two things wrong with that sentence right off the bat that are so obvious I don't think I even need to point it out, but I will say this for the record-

KIRSTY, you are NOT goth, and if you were, the only place you might be the Bringer of Pain and Sorrow is in the Magical Kingdom of the Cupcake and Twinkie People, but out here you are just annoying us. Look, would you go buy a fake beard, wrap a cloth on your head and head to the Middle East and tell everyone you were a Muslim? Hell no, you'd get your honkey ass kicked or worse for that, so why do it with other peoples interests/counter culture?

If you have to tell me how much of an individual you are, you are better off just having it printed on a t-shirt.

The fact of the matter is this- Hollywood doesn't know SHIT about Goth. The thing that really pisses me off is that every time there is a Goth in a movie, there is always the accompanying message that this person is going to sell out by the end of the movie. They are going to realize how silly and stupid they were for embracing a false individuality and realize that being happy is getting good grades, conforming to the masses, and being a nice happy shoe shining monkey like everyone else, because Goth makes you miserable. This was the theme in, just off the top of my head, My First Mister, Beetlejuice AND SLC Punk. By the end of every one of those movies, the said protagonist realized what a fucking schlub liking something that is not the social norm made them and embraced the greater collectives idea of normalcy.

Look Hollywood, FUCK YOU. Ok, not everyone who dresses like this is a miserable sap who goes to the graveyard to do charcoal rubbings of tombstones and then goes home to cry while listening to Bauhaus. Not all of us didn't receive enough hugs as kids or got ass raped by Peter Murphy fans at age 2. Some of us just like doing this and we would be doing it even if everyone else on the planet was doing it as well because it is what WE want to do.

This is usually the point where people like to haul out the whole “Well, if you are conforming to non-conformity, doesn’t that just make you a conformist too?”

This is of course a great little observation that makes me want to do something so violent to whoever said it, that there is not even currently a law that exists that would cover what I am thinking of. It would be something with forced rectal insertion and ill tempered cannibal fish for sure. Aside from the fact that this is a intellectual conversation topic fit for the mental elite of 8th grade theatre tards, the fact remains that it’s not a question of conformity, or at least it shouldn’t be. It should be a question of doing what you want, and if what I want to do is look exactly like a shitload of other people who all wear black, that is my choice and I do it.

Anyway, this probably went nowhere, which is fine, it wasn’t meant to. I just started ranting and before I knew it, it was three pages long. So, in summary – You can’t pork a girl who smells like a taco. It’s just not natural. Thank you.