Some Bullshit Escape.

So, today I got in a big fight with some woman that insisted that suicide rates increase during the Christmas season. I know that's not true because I thought it was true at one point, but as I am prone to do, I did the research and found out it just isn't fucking so.

Actually, more people kill themselves in April than any other month. I find that interesting since it was the month I was born in, so if you believe in any sort of reincarnation or that kind of shit, I probably have the soul of a suicide--er. I refuse to call them victims...but it makes sense when you think about it. Winter time is a bleak, shitty period of the year when depression seems almost inevitable. Everything is dead, it's cold, the days are short, a lot of time with no sun, and there's no fucking way your parents are gonna buy you a $185 GI Joe Aircraft Carrier for Christmas, even though it is over 5 feet long (That's barely $37 a foot) and comes with Admiral Flagg AND a special edition ACE. Where would I put such a thing? I'd find somewhere...

I digress, Uh...oh yeah, but in April it's all sunny and the girls are wearing less and the air smells like life and sex and vitality, and there you are, still feeling like shit, but the rest of the world walking around with a boner and you can't go anywhere without seeing it, mocking your pain. And your puppy that you named after your dead grandma got hit by a semi truck that was shipping tampons to the local safeway, and that "rash" you got from the girl you fucked six monthes ago still hasn't gone away, and they canceled Firefly, which was on its way to being the best show ever, and there's that fuck Jared still making money with his stupid glasses, telling you how good subway is for you, but you know it's a lie, they started a new season of the Real World, George Bush got re-elected, your job sucks, somebody got a hold of those pictures you took of yourself with your dick tucked back between your legs and posted them on the web, gas is over 3 fucking dollars a gallon, they stopped making almond joy ice cream, Pennies still cost 2.3 cents to make, and it doesn't seem to make any sense that there are no girl terrorists, and you can't stop watching that stupid super sweet 16 show on Mtv, and you ordered that Rueben with NO thousand island, just like always, and they still put it on, "I said make it Dry bitch! Dry!" and no one else seems the least bit depressed about any of it so BLAM!

This all seems moot in the face of the fact that this poor woman's daughter killed herself 6 years ago, on Christmas. I never said the suicide rate was zero over the holidays, I just said it didn't increase. In all probobility the poor girl was so fucked up she had other things on her mind more important than Jesus's birthday.

So, if you want to kill yourself, for God's sake wait 'till April. We'll all understand, and I won't have to stand in silent, awkward disbelief at my incredible misfortune at choosing when and who to debate on the topic of Yule tide self murder.

Merry Christmas kids.

end transmission.