There are few things in life that will totally fuck up your life than an asshole brother, especially if he is an opinionated, asshole brother like mine. Doubly so, if he is an opinionated, asshole brother who inflicts his options on you, not only without your consent, but without so much as consulting you. That, my friends, is what cancer does. It also shares a similar genetic makeup. Now, the cancer doesn't think, nor will it ever admit, that it's doing you any harm. After all, can't we all just get along. Your life is too short (and getting shorter by the minute) for such trivial matters as chemotherapy. Live and let metastasize. You see, the cancer is helping you. It's making you stronger, just like it. Who wouldn't want to be a tumor? In an inconvenient location? Destroying the very flesh you love and live... Who? I ask you, Who?
Every-fucking-body EXCEPT the cancer.
The cancer holds a very high regard for itself. So high, it cannot imagine anyone ever wanting to be anything else. If they did... they would be mad. Stark raving mad. They would have to be. I mean, look at me... I'm cancer!
Every-fucking-body EXCEPT the cancer.
The cancer holds a very high regard for itself. So high, it cannot imagine anyone ever wanting to be anything else. If they did... they would be mad. Stark raving mad. They would have to be. I mean, look at me... I'm cancer!
Beautiful, destructive to others, powerful, and God damn successful! I'm more popular than everything except heart disease, but I'm gaining ground... self-consecrated ground. Which is exactly where I should stand because I'm a blessing. Every word I speak should be recorded in the Great Quotes of Humanity. I make the most interesting man in the Universe look dull. There is only one thing I don't understand... with seven billion people on this planet, why I am the only one fit to command.
CANCER RULES!
