A Box Of Misanthropy

In school, I was taught that the way for a writer to get the reader to keep reading his book was to wow the reader on the first page.

Well, I say fuck that shit. You either like me or you don't, so let's spare the pleasantries and get down to business.

I am Boxtop, and I am a misanthrope. I'm not a misanthrope because it's cool, or because I'm part of a lame subculture, or because I'm all angsty because Mommy wouldn't buy me some popular piece of shit that I really don't need but I want anyway because everyone has it and I'll stick out like melanoma if I don't have it. I am a misanthrope because I actively hate humanity and believe that no good can come from the idiots humanity consists of.

The following posts in this blog will consist of rants and rants masquerading as philosophical musings (you know, the kind of stuff Plato would write if he had a pole up his butt), and I'll update this thing whenever my ADHD allows it. You may find my posts unintelligible and disjointed, but that's just the way I roll, so deal with it.

So sit tight, because once you've opened the Box of Misanthropy, not even duct tape can keep it shut.