Love is Like a Banana Hammock

Rant from one of Craigslist’s many lunatics.

Binary-code Bandit says: “my darlings, it’s time for a good old fashion game of sodomy, date rape, and balloon animals. It’s time for the rantings of a mad man that has briefly crafted a nook into one of our techno-savvy social outlets. I am the digital serial killer. I am the electronic sociopath. I am the binary-code bandit. Okay, even I found that last one to fall about 15 parsecs from hilarity, but fuck it. Move upward and onward.

This evening I feel a familiar beast stirring under my skin. It is the monster cultured by a wave of mutilation known as the social norm.

For those of you that don’t like this here fancy talk n’such, I’ll dumb it down… Fuck the world. That’s right, the world. Not the Internet, not America, Not the Northern goddamn hemisphere, but the world. In the words of Tyler Durden, “We’re polishing the brass on the Titanic. It’s all goin’ down.”

I would like to call into evidence this shit box of porn and profanity, whoring and horticulture, the wonderful creation of Earthian society, that which has replaced our imagination, our need for intelligence, and any semblance of an integrated society that such optimists as myself may conjure, the Internet.

Born the illegitimate bastard son of scientists seeking faster, more efficient ways to share information, it now exists as the whore-house, peep-show of the new millennium. And God Bless it, too.

What would we do without the convenience of information at our fingertips? How would we survive without the ability to instantly transfer letters, photos, and movies with the press of a button? How in the name of all that is holy could we ever survive without the opportunity to watch a woman blow a man that is blowing a horse at 9am on a Wednesday from the comfort of your fucking living room? It’s inconceivable! IN-CON-CEIV-ABLE!!!! Except to those of us ancient as shit mother fuckers that were alive before 1993. We bought out Porn from our older brother and an inflated price after he stole it from the gas station, and we were goddamn lucky to have it!

I don’t mean to be bitter (Oh but you are). Without the internet, how could the tens of millions of people that login to each of these fucking dating sites ever hope to get laid? And if anything, I am a man that stands up for the cause of nerdy techno-geeks getting laid.

It decays our language, eroding it down to mind-numbing short-cuts and abbreviations. WTF? OMG! FML! and of course the harbinger of doom, LOL! (lol) And where this bullshit began as three words abbreviated to three letters, it gets worse. The original LOL became LMAO, became ROTFL, became ROTFLMAO. There is no end to the depravity. It sickens the wisest men and confuses the idiots. A language created for the rampant middle-class. The class infamous for trading a few brain cells for something flashy and electronic, and giving up a few civil rights for the illusion of safety.

I have my teeth gritted and my fists clenched as I await the day I read in a forum, “OMGISMPFLSFHAIAPALBTOBMDSTGFTP” Which is of course just an abbreviated way of saying, “Oh My God I Shit My Pants From Laughing So Fucking Hard And I Also Peed A Little But Thats Ok Because My Doctor Says Thats Good For The Pregnancy” (OMGISMPFLSHAIAPALBTOBMDSTGFTP was the reason we posted this…incase you see it somewhere in the near future and care to know what it means. We’re all over new trends here at Studs of Craigslist).

And when that time comes, those of you that mocked me and laughed at this post will be drowned in your own humble fucking pie (mmmm pie). Speaking of, I think I have some left over pie in the fridge. Time for me too ska-doosh.

As always, Love, Peace, and RAR for you all.

I Remain,

-G

(If you want to know what RAR stands for you’ll have to ask)”

Just because everyone needs to take a break from touching themselves sometimes, and what better way to spend that time than pretending to be an intellectual…On Craigslist of all places.

RAR to him as well. Which to us means Raging Anal Rape. What do you think?

One Comment

on “Love is Like a Banana Hammock
One Comment on “Love is Like a Banana Hammock

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *