Saturday, November 5, 2011

Conspiring Jerks

I don't know why everyone thinks I'm dead. I'm not dead. It's a conspiracy. I remember the car accident very clearly; the semi came over the line and smashed into us head-on. I remember bleeding a lot, but I never lost consciousness. It's a conspiracy, I'm telling you. It's my stupid step mom. I bet she even used my Dad's money to pay off the semi driver. The guy was probably happy to end his loser life. Anyway. That's not the point.

The point is, I remember sitting in the car, bleeding, waiting for the paramedics to get there. Boy, let me tell you, it took them AGES. It was a Thursday so they were all probably watching Grey's Anatomy or something. When they FINALLY got there, they kept yelling at me, asking if I was okay. It wasn't that I couldn't answer, I just didn't feel like it. I didn't like their tone. Plus they broke the window of my car to yell some more, and I just knew that my step mom wouldn't buy the “paramedics did it” story. She never buys anything (from me anyway, she buys EVERYTHING from Louis Vuitton. I'm telling you, she's conspiring against me). Anyway, like I said, it's not that I wasn't able to talk to the guys ripping apart my car, I just didn't want to reward their childish behavior.

So they finally pull me out of the car (and one of them was a little too handsy, if you know what I mean) and then some jerk-off starts talking at me like I'm dead or something. As if. I'm fine. But anyway. He starts talking to the other jerks around him saying bull like “oh it's too bad we didn't get here in time.” Yeah right. More like “Thank God we didn't miss the end of Grey's Anatomy. Meredith is hot.” Bunch of jerks.

I end up going to the hospital with these jerks, because I wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of speaking to them. They're just a bunch of jerks. So I go and I don't say anything and I think about all the ways that my step mom is ruining my life. Clearly, she is paying these jerks to act like I'm dead. Well fine, if they want to behave like children that's their problem. I don't want to talk to them anyway.

Then when we get to the hospital (which is run by a bunch of jerks), they all start acting like I'm dead too. I'm starting to wonder how my step mom got away with all this without my dad noticing the money leaving. He probably does realize it. He's probably a part of the conspiracy, just like these jerks at the hospital. I'm not talking to them. Not giving them the satisfaction. No way. No sir.

It was a total bummer when they shut me in the morgue though. I mean, that was just childish. What kind of jerk shuts a person in a morgue? Whatever. It's not like I couldn't get out, it was just I wasn't really sure where I'd go when I did. I mean, it's not like I had a car anymore, and it's not like I'd have anywhere to go if I left. I sure wasn't about to go home to my dad and step mom. Not after they tried to kill me. As if.

The mortician pissed me off too. He started talking to me all nice, like he wasn't a jerk, but then he stuck some nasty paste stuff in my mouth, and glued my eyes shut. I could have stopped him, but I was mad that he turned out to be a jerk. I am just so sick of jerks. They're everywhere. And they all get paid by my step mom.

So I had to sit in this stupid box for like a whole day while a bunch of jerks came to my funeral and started talking about what a tragic accident it was, like they all believed my step mom's crap story about how I was dead. I could have opened the casket and said I wasn't, but who would want to open a casket just to talk to a bunch of jerks? Not me. No sir. No way.

Then after some bull eulogy by some jerk minister I'd never met, some conspirators picked up my casket and put me in the back of a hearse. By this time I was pretty sick of the whole thing.
When the car started moving, I decided to talk to the hearse driver to get me out of here, even if he was a jerk. But he didn't hear me or something, or maybe my step mom knew that I would try to talk to the guy and paid him extra to turn a deaf ear. What a jerk.
So then they stuck me on some sort of box thing, like in a movie or something I guess. I don't know, I couldn't exactly see, what with that glue they put on my eyes. So then the same jerk minister says some more bull and they start to lower me down. I thought about saying something again then, maybe there was someone in the crowd who wasn't getting paid to be a jerk in my step mom's conspiracy, but it was kind of fun being lowered. It was kind of like a kid's roller coaster, and it reminded me of when I was just a kid and would ride on Dumbo, back before everyone was a jerk and my mom was still alive. So I didn't say anything.

Since then I've just been kind of hanging out here. It's not like I can't get out, I just don't really feel like it. I mean, the world is just full of jerks that hang out with my step mom, so who would really want to join them anyhow? Not me. No sir. I'm fine down here. It's kind of nice, you know? Quiet. No jerks. It's not so bad.

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