Alright, I’m a punk. And people hate punks. I can live with that. But today my best friend Steve-o was run down by a carload of preps from the local high school.

I wish with my whole fucking burning heart that I could personally kill each and every prep in this entire fucking state. My friend’s death has opened a whole new world for me, a world where “make peace not war” just doesn’t fucking cut it. The preps got away. The police aren’t even fucking looking for them. I was right fucking next to Steve-o when he got hit. He died instantly. I know who the preps are, and I swear I will get my revenge. I want Steve-o to know that he didn’t die in vain, but he died for a cause, and he’s started a revolution among punks and preps. I’m gunna get the fucking preps with my fists. I’m not gunna kill em, just beat em bloody. To all the punks out there- let’s start a new sport: PREP BASHING.

Have fun in that big mosh pit in the sky, Stevie.


Categorized as death

By QuietFairWarning

Russian Roulet- My favourite game. Death- my favourite state of being. Suicide- yeah, within 24 hours of writing this probably.