First, they cancelled Louis C.K., and I said nothing. Next, they put fewer white actors in Roomba commercials, and I said nothing. Then, they attacked Roald Dahl, and I said something, but it was actually kind of supportive because I hate censorship, but I hate “James and the Giant Peach” even more. But things have officially gone too far! The SJW mind virus has infected Charlize, owner of Pimp My Hide Tattoo & Piercing on Gigglehurst Road across the street from Jersey Mike’s. (If you hit Beauregard’s Medical Imaging and Putt Putt Emporium, you’ve gone too far.) Her tattoo staff refuses to ink my cybersigilism design SOLELY because “It looks like shit on paper and would look even uglier on the human body.”
I was so proud of my drawing until Charlize shamed me. I thought the left preached tolerance; instead, they preach “These look less like circuits and more like a 3rd grader trying to draw the very hungry caterpillar from memory.” I thought diversity of thought made the world a better place, but apparently, all it does is gather the resident artists to mock my shading abilities. Paul (who we used to call Asscrack Paul before DEI) even said “The Y2K style of cybersigilism tends to look better on younger folks with more avant-garde wardrobes, not balding 50-somethings who exclusively wear Washington Wizards jerseys.” Um, okay, wokeler. Didn’t ask?
My tattoo was meant to show my inner soul on my inner thigh, but it seems cancel culture won’t stop until we’re all barred from getting an edgerunner John C. Reilly with looping tentacle arms on our quads. Not all of us want to conform to Ilhan Omar’s agenda, but at this pace, we’ll all be forced to have neotrad bisexuals on our biceps by 2027.
And the anti-Jesus vibes weren’t lost on me. The staff at Pimp My Hide CLEARLY hated my cybersigil cross for its Christian themes—and because it wasn’t on a church but a spiky Waffle House covered in holographic binary code (which they said was as impossible to draw as it was unpleasant to look at).
