It’s often difficult to tell with precision when, exactly, one becomes a bad person. Equally difficult is determining the exact moment in which one discovers one has been a bad person for some time but has only just now become acquainted with the fact.
But it can happen.
And once it does, your ticket is punched. Changed forever, no longer fit for human consumption. No, once you awaken as your own crowned monarch in the Kingdom of Bad — and don’t go thinking it’s a nice place — you are essentially condemned to a life of iffy decisions and rash actions committed with a cruel streak several miles wide.
“But that sounds dangerous and cool!” you say. I assure you that it is not. Sure, you might start out doing harmless stuff like treating people like dishrags and making everyone cater to your wildly fluctuating emotional states. But soon, you’ll be ruining entire lives and careers and generally making things miserable for everyone around you. Eventually, you’ll wind up one of those sad cretins working at a Big Box store, gazing blankly through the endless aisles of flat-screen TVs in a state of terminal torpor. Unloved. Unwanted. Unshaven.
How do I know this? I’m a bad person. There’s plenty more that I could tell you about what this entails, but frankly, I don’t feel the need, as a great many of you will become Bad People, too. As to those who manage to dodge Badville, well, you can feel safe knowing that you haven’t experienced further taint.
Now then, my grandmother taught never to end a blog post with the word “taint.” To respect her memory, I have therefore chosen a nice, epic fuck.