Joshua King needs to Grow Up

Okay, so does the whole world too!

We're all adults, right? Well, I think most of us are from a legal standpoint. And as adults, you'd think we could conduct ourselves in a manner becoming of adults. Not these childish, petty games. What about the good old days? When you could say whatever you wanted about anyone else and you knew it was okay, because that person was dead, or was going to be, or already was and is now back to life, tormenting the souls at the nursing home? Don't you remember these "good times"?

Remember fire drills in Elementary? The hottest day of the spring and you'd be forced outside. And always, always, it was only a drill. You wished you could see the school burn down in front of your eyes. But if it were to really burn down, you know that standing in a line on the sidewalk was not far enough away. Especially with all the chemicals in the Science room, that school was nothing more than a weapon of mass destruction. I hated fire drills.

And now, here you are, Miss Pretty and Mister Self-centered. Missus Pansy and her husband, Mr. Jerk-off. A big crowd of lame losers sipping punch and refusing to dance. I say, dance. Dance dance dance dance. I'm not a Wesleyan.

I know, why don't I delete the blog? I can erase all my memories too and not have to wonder if anyone is looking at me as a I stand at my picture window in my mom's underwear. How do I look, daddy?

So, in conclusion. Stop whining and grow up. Not just you, Josh (though a speech pathologist could do wonders for you) but all of you, the fire drill instructor, The four lame losers, and especially you, satan. You are just such a puss. Grow up or go home.