I swear, man, the things I do and the way I act, in my day-to-day basis, they would be stand-up comedy gold. At least, to those fucking idiots, the north americans. Let's see some examples, shall we?
- Man, I just had the WORST Christma's eve dinner of my life this year, thanks to these pink pills of fake cocaine I'm taking everyday. I mean, I felt like I was a fucking vegan. And I just hate vegans, right? I do. "Oh, you can't eat meat because---" Let me stop you there, you fucking idiot. What do you think are these(points to my canines) - I know you have 'em too, asshole. It means you're a fucking PREDATOR, like I am. Like all humans are, you know? Fucking idiot. These are for ripping MEAT, not eating your fucking celery special or whatever hoirrible thing you consider food! Fucking imbecile. And yeah, I couldn't eat the turkey, not the pork. I ate the raw materials tha make up the superb chicken salad my mom does every christmas. But these fucking pills won't let me eat that, nor any kind of meat that more than two weeks old, right? Fuck you and you vegan people. And you can't even beat me, asshole, because you've got no protein in your muscles. Eat all tofu you want, you'll never get near MEAT, a fucking barbecue. Never. And that's another thing banned from my food list. I am brazillian, and can't eat barbecue no more! You might even deport me for that CRIME, it's a fucking crime, I tell you, not be able to eat our barbecue. Not that piece of shit "barb-Q" north americans eat. All they do is toss some hamburgers on the fucking fire, hmmm now that sounds delicious, overburnt hamburgers. No! I mean Large chunks of meat, delicious meat, still bleeding on the fire roasting them. I can't eat that anymore, unless I go with one of those crazy guns you can buy at any K-Mart on the States, and kill the cow with a barrage of gunfire. Ra-ta-ta-ta, "Okay guys, it's dead!" Now hurry up, we gotta roast her before the evil thyramine takes over. Fresh meat! It's all I can eat nowadays. I think I'll end up eating people alive. "Oh, that guy looks fresh." then an old woman would pass me by, and I would go, "No, that expirated. WAY beyond the expiration date!" I'd be know as the "Parnate cannibal", or something.
or:
- Man, I feel so overcharged with frustration and anger these days, that I feel like a fucking human pitbull or something. No, it's got nothing to do with my neo-nazy from the eighteenth century style, you know, these handlebars and shaved head. People see me and get the fuck out of my way, and you know, it's probably for the best. Because I get all this pent-up, stuffed anger inside of me, that I might just do something terrible if someone just bump into me, "Oh, sorry there." and I would be like, "Yeah, I'll give you a reson to be sorry for indeed," and just toss the motherfucker in front of a moving bus! And I would go, "Oh, sorry there, motherfucker!" And oyu know - it's not too bad. Because I fucking hate people, man, I do. And I ride the bus, because I'm fucking stupid to not have a driver's license at my age. And you know what? I don't fucking care no more. I earn less than a thousand of your american dollars a month. How the FUCK would I be able to afford a fucking CAR? Get into a 30-year pyment plan to buy a fucking Fiat 147? Fuck that. Nowadays, every idiot has a car, I know, becuse we brazillians love to get into debt. Man, you're gonna be apying that shit for what, five, six years? How much do you think your piece of shit Uno will be worth once you've paid it all? I would trade it for a cum rag. Do you have any idea how long six years are? Do you have it all planned? You could be fired, you could get a stray bullet from a slum kid that was cleaning his drug dealer special christmas gift, a fucking TEC-9 or MP5, and I'm not talking about a fucking music player, no. You would be on a wheelchair, paying for the fucking decaying Uno piece of shit sitting forever on your garage. You don't know what could happen in five or six years, you fucking moron. "Yeah, but I get a car and you don't." With this traffic? I'm sometimes GLAD that I don't have a car, because I would've killed somebody at this point. Yeah! Have you noticed how these idiots drive? And they get mad at YOU! Fuck this shit. I'd rather step into a crowded bus and be led. And with this eternal bad mood I live in, Everyone steps out of my fucking way, "Oh man, look at that FREAK over there, no way I'm sitting next tho that THING." And It works, like a charm, and I find it great, to be honest. I'll sit down, NO ONE will seat next to me. No fucking body. I tell you man, it's one the advantages of having hatred and self-loathing as my fuel. And displaying this neo-nazi from the French renaissance looks, wearing wife-beaters, and all these tattoos showing.
or:
- I'm glad, sometimes, that I don't own any guns. Because, at this point in my life, either I would've gone berserk shooting random people at the street until someone put me down with a fucking bullet. Or I would've gone all Jackson Pollock, using my fucking piece of shit brains as a medium. Now THAT'S art, eh? I bet someone would buy the fucking wall splattered with my blasted head remains for at least a million dollars. If someone can afford to buy a fucking black square, they would be fucking DELIGHTED to purchase a real piece of ART - my final masterpiece, for at least a couple millions of dollars. And I would raise from the depths of hell, or wherever your fucking religion tells you that fucking LIE that "suicides don't get into heaven" or some shit like that, and I would emerge, all evil-red gleaming, a fucking TRIDENT on my clawed and furry hands, and I would mangle the idiot who would've buy a splatter of blood and brains someone sold on eBay or wherever, for a fucking billion, gazillion dollars. "Buriol's final masterpiece" - ART! Because these days, if you do a detailed, cross-hatched shaded drawing, it's not art, no. It's fucking GABAGE, according to today's "artists". But you put a glass of water in the center of a white room, now that's art. And nobody questions it, because they're fucking idiots. "Eh, it looks contemporary, and has a message..." Yeah. Let me tell you the message it sends: "There is a fucking hoax of an "artist" with his discourse or whatever they call it, memorized, and everyone applaud them, because they don't want to look dumb." - Herd behaviour, ever heard of that? It applies specially to these "art" installations. A friend of mine, who is TRULY an artist, draws magnificient cartoons, told me he took a photgraph of an electrical installation, and his teacher went crazy, "Oh, how magnificient!" - This would be one of the people I would add to my "fresh meat" menu. And I would've take a photograph of me cannibalizing this idiot, and it would sell for a gazzilion dollars. ART! There you go, motherfucker, ART.
(continuing)But I was talking about guns. Yeah, I don't have one, and I just told you, it's for the best. But you know what I do have, sitting on my nightdesk right beside my bed? A fucking HATCHET. And it's not even brand new, I found it on a toolbox on the attick I live in - Yes, I live in a fucking attic, and I love it! I fucking love it, you know why? Because most people are afraid of attics. And mine, they fucking should be, because if someone breaks in someday, the first thing they'll encounter is a fucking human pit bull from the renaissance, hadlebars 'stache and all, wielding a fucking hatchet. And I would use it, I swear to you, if that motherfucker shot me and missed, that would be the las fucker he'd ever shoot in his miserable lifetime. And then, I'd go, "Ah well, I cannot get this fresh meat go to waste, you know?"
Thank you and goodnight. And stay the fuck away from me! I hate people, and you all are quite fresh, except from the old ones terrified and already trying to open the emergency doors!
