R.A.B.S. report in

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R.A.B.S. report in

1m1w

Poster: 1m1w @ Mon Mar 08, 2010 2:55 am

Please allow me to introduce myself I am a man of ill health and waste. My budget doesn’t allow for much else and the notion of being ‘upwardly mobile’ makes me regret being born under the banner of King Reagan. Alas, the King is dead thus long live the fucking King. As similarly as a seer on a mountain can accurately survey the landscape I’ll just use my own special vantage point for your personal edification and reflection. Contrary to popular opinion, the phenomenon of ‘broke ass white boy’ is nothing new. There have actually been white people who have fallen on hard times throughout history believe it or not. Please don’t ask me to name any names of any proper poor palies; anomia is a bitch… but those little street urchin shits that Charles Dickens always wrote about immediately spring to mind. I’m not here to swing on the nuts of Dickens though so let’s get down to getting down. Today’s topic of discussion is R.A.B.S.: Rich Ass Bored Shits. R.A.B.S. is definitely a new phenomenon but put your ear to the ground and you’ll be shown that the Lords of This World are slowly phasing out this particular biological meme; most likely because they find it just as fucking annoying as everyone else. R.A.B.S. are aspiring yuppies who will fail in their yuppiedom just as hard and fast as they have failed in every other facet of their miserable existences. This inevitable doom is caused by no genuine shortcomings whatsoever; R.A.B.S. are the most intelligent, resourceful, educated and connected people you will ever regret being introduced to. The cause of spontaneous R.A.B.S. failure is due to the inability to quit fucking bitching and obsessing over the perceived imperfections of life. Rather than apply common sense to sensory perceptions and consult the memory bank when in doubt, R.A.B.S. find it easier to stick themselves inside an extremely negative and self-defeating mental cacoon of impending doom. This cacoon births no exquisite marmoreal winged moth or fleetingly beautiful butterfly but instead will dissolute all it comes into contact with. This continues in a Sisyphean fashion until something true enough penetrates the semi-permeable membrane of backwards ass thinking. Upon puncture the envelope expands rather than deflates as one might expect. The cause of random expansion is unknown at this time but evidence points to the misery loves company phenomenon. As we all know the best kind of misery is manufactured misery and nothing attracts vulgar artifacts as consistently as this special blend of bullshit. Once the R.A.B.S. crew has assembled into some amalgamated Voltron of Poor Me the real fun begins. Team R.A.B.S. will continue to flyff their parents’ monies on drugs, contraception, drugs, overpriced status symbols, drugs, nutritionally vacant foodstuffs, drugs, flavor of the month electronic gadgets, drugs and entrances to sweat encrusted clubs where the drinks cost more than a bottle of the decent stuff and the DJ’s worst nightmare is the crossfader somehow slipping away from the extreme right and left of the mixer whilst in the middle of queuing up the next Lil’ Wayne mp3 on Serato. This continues until the boredom of the R.A.B.S. becomes an all consuming conflagration of voiding desiccation, the R.A.B.S. crew becomes despondent and horrible things begin happening for no reason other than that they are something happening. In the sense that every major airport you visit across the world is exactly the same, the existence and habitations of every R.A.B.S. crew is exactly the same the reason being that familiarity is the best possible surefire way of gilding a cage. At this point R.A.B.S. will dissemble, most likely due to a staged nervous breakdown. Common activities in this point in an individual R.A.B.S. life-cycle include cyclopean made-to-be-broken promises/commitments, fugal talk of ‘finding oneself’, pursuing a religion that doesn’t properly appreciate right angles, three figure vacations that last less than a month and above all else going out of their way to be an obnoxious fucking cunt to everyone they come into contact with. This is the basic life cycle of the R.A.B.S. individual but the actual ethnography can fracture the soundest of minds and is best left to a better funded and unsaner person than I.

-R.A.B.S. 4 Lyfe (signing out)
(6,228)

Comments: 2 • QUICK Comment • ADVANCED Comment •

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	ThurstonHowell3rd	The problem with jet-setting is that you have to spend so much time on jets. What we need are teleporters so that we can mope complain about how empty our lives all over the globe at an instant. I'll tell my congressman to order NASA to build some. Tue Mar 09, 2010 12:58 pm The problem with jet-setting is that you have to spend so much time on jets. What we need are teleporters so that we can mope complain about how empty our lives all over the globe at an instant. I'll tell my congressman to order NASA to build some.

	Trustafarian86	YO DOG U NEED TO CHILLZ AND LISSEN TO SUM BOB MARLY FOR RILL Tue Mar 09, 2010 8:57 pm YO DOG U NEED TO CHILLZ AND LISSEN TO SUM BOB MARLY FOR RILL

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