Well fuck you, it’s got nothing on mine. My mom practically kicked my ass out of the house before I even hit 13, and I never even met my dad. My only friend until I was 10 was the asshole next door who was always beating the shit out of me and telling me I wasn’t worth shit. It’s not even like I had a choice, the town fucking had like 9 people living in it, I shit you not. My entire adolescence was just moving around from place to place trying to get along with people who didn’t even want me.
You think that’s the worst? My only friend was an Asian guy in his thirties or something, who only kept me around because he thought I could help him get laid. The only perk was that I also got to hang around with this cute ginger chick, she was flat as a pancake sure, but damn she was a total nymph. She must have been a sadist or something cause she always took pleasure in hitting me and telling me how she loved to get wet.
But dear God, the bane of my existence was this adult couple that I could NOT seem to avoid. You know those types of couples that are absolutely sickening, like they wear matching outfits and finish each other’s sentences? Yeah, they were fucking creepers, and they had this cat, which was at least twice as annoying as they were. I swear the thing would never shut the fuck up.
Like I said, I ended up moving from town to town getting into fights with other kids my age, even adults from time to time.
The only thing that kept me going was my dream to become a Pokemon master.
“We tolerate the pathologies of quantification — a dry, abstract, mechanical type of knowledge — because the results are so powerful. Numbering things allows tests, comparisons, experiments. Numbers make problems less resonant emotionally but more tractable intellectually. In science, in business and in the more reasonable sectors of government, numbers have won fair and square.”—NYTimes: The Data-Driven Life (via Instapaper) (via williac)