Let’s put the mad back in mad men

Everywhere I go I get the same question. 

Why you mad, bro? 

I guess it’s my resting psychopath face. 

Or the middle fingers I have had surgically reconstructed to point to the sky no matter what the rest of my hands are doing. 

But whatever the reason, my answer is always the same. 

Look around. There’s a ton of shit to be mad about. 

The hard part is choosing where to focus your fury. 

For me, I tend to zero in on three things: 
Insincerity. 
Pretense. 
And fruit-filled chocolate. 

I hate all that shit. 

But I love the fire each one lights inside of me. 

Because it pushes me to push back against the insincere. 
To poke fun at the pretentious. 
 

And to hunt down that sadistic little candy man and tell him where he can stick his fruit the next time he even thinks of sneaking it into my chocolate. 

I kid. Sort of. 

If you’re not getting mad at something, you’re giving your tacit approval to life as is. You don’t need to be a total dick about it (¼ dick is usually sufficient), but we can always find a way to make the world better. 

One disgusting boysenberry filled chocolate at a time.