Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Shame.

It's the greatest of emotions. The most powerful of emotions.

A leading online dictionary defines shame as "the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, ridiculous, etc., done by oneself or another."

I would agree with this definition. No one knows shame better than I.

As you may know, some years ago I was a young star of theater hoping to make it big in Hollywood. I was handpicked by Emilio Estevez (the star of various films such as Young Guns, Young Guns 2, St. Elmo's Fire and other hits) for personal training in both method and character acting. However, I was duped. In my eagerness, I signed a contract and failed to read the fine print. The contract I had signed forced me into bondage serving the pleasures and desires of Emilio Estevez. If I failed him in any way possible, he had the legal ability to slowly torture and then kill me.

Sometimes, usually after he has snuffed paint with the pre-teen boys he has had imported from El Salvador, he lets me communicate with the outside world.

Let me run down what has happened to me since my last posts:

1) Emilio ripped off all of my fignernails because I forgot that he liked chunky peanut butter and not smooth peanut butter.
2) Emilio promised my freedom if I stood in front of the La Brea Tar Pits wearing nothing but a condom. I did this. Emilio drove by with a tour bus and examined my genitals while mocking me. He then told me I would never get freedom.
3) Emilio then ripped off all of my fingernails again because I thought I was going to have freedom.

They've finally grown back.

I learned a lesson, though. A lesson in humility. A lesson in shame.

It truly is the greatest, most powerful of emotions.

I deserve what I get from Emilio Estevez.

I just hope he doesn't get those fire ants to eat at my urethra again.