I Want To Be Retarded -- Helmet And Knee-pad Retarded

What a life it is to be retarded. And before I get crucified and cast into hell for that boisterous statement please hear me out.

I'm not talking about having a mental illness. I'm talking about straight up mental paralysis! I want to be so retarded people walk me around town, strapped to a little blue harness, wearing a helmet, drooling on my velcro shoes. I know you have no idea how that is suppose to be the rebuttal that will save my soul, but give me a few more minutes of your time.

Think about how complicated life is! We feel bad for people who have severe mental handicaps, I on the other hand envy them! Ignorance is truly bliss, and they are the Tom Bradys of BlissBall.

It is one thing to be given the curse of a good intellect and to waste it. But I would love just to slobber all over myself all day and have people pat me on the head for it, the government give me money for it, and doctors give me free drugs for it.

We the unfortunate members of society have to deal with real problems, and all the shit that entails. If we want drugs, we have to meet some shady guy in a dark alley behind Cosco, they get their drugs ground up in a smoothie for breakfast. If we want government support we have to go through a million interviews and fill out a dozen and a half forms, they have programs they pre-qualify for. We fuck up, we get yelled at until we unfuck shit up, and if you're retarded, people are just straight up afraid to be mean to you. The fear of burning in hell for eternity if you so much as giggle at the special Olympics indefinitely protects the mentally handicap.

I like keeping the bar low, and my perfectly functioning brain royally fucks that up for me...