If I went insane

I recently posted to my twitter the top 5 things I (fairly irrationally) hate. Real hate. Don’t bother with the whole, oh you shouldn’t hate anything. I just do, and its these five things.

  1. Being told what to do (I have a club for that)
  2. Being rocked like a hurricane
  3. Smoking
  4. Ancient Rome
  5. Math

We watched this strange movie called Medium Raw: Night of the Wolf. There was a misunderstanding from the title that this would be a werewolf movie, which Dianne loves. However, Mercedes McNab was in it, and in one of the few roles I’ve seen that she doesn’t play a bimbo.

How are these two things related? Well, in the movie, this serial killer of some sort gets loose, and kills mostly everyone. Finally, someone has the bright idea of releasing this hulk like psycho guy, who becomes psychotically enraged when he sees the color red. So they somehow show him the color red a bunch, then I think dump some red paint or something on the serial killer. I don’t remember honestly.

Well, if I was to go insane and be institutionalized, this is how my scenario would play out. They would come to get me to save them from the serial killer. I wouldn’t care. Then they would play Rock You Like a Hurricane. I would become completely enraged. They would tell me to go after the serial killer, which I would not, because I hate being told what to do. But then, the serial killer would show up, I would see he’s dressed like an ancient Roman soldier, and smoking, and I would go batshit crazy attacking him. To keep my energy up, they would keep playing that horrible song, while yelling math equations at me. Then I would rip the serial killers head off. The end.

2 thoughts on “If I went insane

  1. Ooh, I want to play. They would tell me to go find the serial killer, and my looking-for-stuff phobia would kick in, just as I was coming to the realization that he was hiding in a grocery store, but the aisles would all be crowded, so I’d have to keep looking for him. Then everyone would start whistling and trying to tickle me until I Hulked out and he escaped. They would force me to wear a turtleneck to stealthily do some more searching, only I’d have to stand in line to buy it first. If I ever came out of my rage fugue, I’d pulverize the serial killer on sight with the aura of my wrath.

    • I laughed so hard! I was not aware of your rage for whistling and being tickled! I can’t whistle, so next time I see you no worries there. I can understand about the turtleneck, they’re not flattering, and they feel like being strangled by an unattractive shirt.