On balance I try to be one of the good ones but I'm not always successful. I've probably got some kind of personality disorder on top of all the psychotic-deep-depression-treatable-with-modern-meds crap.

I've suffered times when I'm burning bridges and lobbing a few hand grenades back over the river just to make sure nobody follows.

My peak asshole status was probably in college when I was burning through senior thesis advisers. I hurt some bad. My final senior thesis was a "Fuck You All" and I did the oral presentation drunk after a university newspaper wrap party. Fortunately my final thesis adviser was a hard ass impenetrable "whatever, Hunter, you've done the math. Just go away from here and have a nice life."

Pass. Graduate. Chancellor looks away when he shakes my hand.

Mostly I've had a good life passing, masquerading as a functional human being. But I still have my moments. My crazy grandma had to be removed from her home as a danger to herself and others. Genetically only a quarter of her is me, and I've thus far avoided the danger-to-others part, but the danger-to-self part got me locked up in the psych ward last summer.

Sometimes it is also good to say EVERYTHING IS FUCKED UP