Clears throat, loosens collar, cracks knuckles

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Fuck Gary Jules, everyone he's ever met, everyone he'll ever encounter and every fucking overly tragic fucking sorority girl (OF ANY FUCKING GENDER YOU SACKLESS SIMPERING SONS OF BITCHES) that thinks watching Donnie Darko three times makes you deep. Instagram filters do not make you an artist and singing Tears for Fears like an emotionally retarded poetry major on an open mic night in Chillicothe OH simply displays that you have the depth of a reflecting pool, the insight of a Bush and the poetic heart of Dane Cook.

You know what comes up THIRD when you type "Youtube Mad World" into Google?

THE FUCKING ORIGINAL SONG

Know why? 'cuz it's got 1.1m hits. Fuckin' Gary Jules? 94 million.

I feel sorry for goddamn Millenials because they have no prospects, they're doing free internships and they're retreating into hipsterdom because it's the only way to make poverty cool and then someone says something about Gary Fucking Jules and I wish upon them a lifetime of Ikea and shitty vinyl records that they think matter for some stupid reason. Your life is tragic because you choose to be emotionally stunted, you choose to surround yourselves with mediocrity and you choose to hand over your spiritual allegiance to the kid that would have been Jeremy speaking in class today if he wasn't so hopped up on cloves and prozac that he failed to notice his life was actually pretty good even if Mommy didn't buy give him her old BMW when he turned 16 because you know what, he's going to private college, he gets to hang at the mall and when he tore his flannel in that skateboarding accident he could afford another on his debit card.

Fuck EVERYTHING about that song. EVERYTHING.

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God DAMN that felt good.