Thursday, September 29, 2005

Steve-O: Suicide By Journalism

**NOTE**I had a very interesting/emotional/crazy/what-the-fuck type of day yesterday. It was too much for me to handle and I'm going to write it up if I feel better about it all tomorrow. For now here's something I got a few days ago, but felt other people should read it (Plus I'm too lazy to write anything up myself)**NOTE**

Steve-O’s Freelance Writing Debut

Suicide By Journalism:Why I Want To Be Shot Dead By A Rapper

I often say, “I don’t want to live long—I want to live fucking forever”. It’s not some kind of joke, the fact is that our only real instinct is to survive and we, all of us, are going to wind up dead as fuck. I like to think that, once we’re all dead, future generations will giggle at video footage of the sillier things I did in life.

In July of 2004 I walked into the G-Unit studio, had $750,000 dollars worth of jewels draped all over me and proceeded to say many things on a mixtape to deliberately jeopardize my life when 175,000 copies of it were distributed in the first shipment. I started “beef” with people I knew nothing about, except that they were genuinely violent criminals.

Why would I do such a thing? Believe it or not, it’s because I’m scared of two things: anticipation of death coupled with prolonged agony and suffering, and the depressing likelihood of sucking in my life once I pass my “prime”. I’m already 31 years old, the wrinkles are kicking in and I want to do my best work, then get shot (without seeing it coming) and be dead before I hit the ground. That way, I will have my legacy forever intact, unlike Christian Slater, who begged me for cab money the last time I spoke to him. Did I just write that despite the fact that I know Christian Slater has been known to carry loaded firearms through airports? That’s fucking right I did, come on Christian, bring it- I’m ready to die.

Now that I’m warming up, let me explain why I would rather be Ol’ Dirty Bastard than Flava Flave. ODB, bless his heart, was never a hypocrite, he was far more violent in his personal life than he ever was in his art and he died doing what he loved: drugs. ODB was merrily rapping away in his studio (after having swallowed a twisted up sandwich baggy of powder cocaine which had begun to leak) when he instantly died of a heart attack. He did not suffer and he will live forever as the king of being what he said he was, a filthy motherfucker. I don’t see Flava Flave as much of a threat, so I won’t waste many words on him, I’ll just say, “911 used to be a joke, now look at Flava Flave.”

I think we all know that Sean “Diddy” Combs isn’t at all scary, but I’ve got beef with him—he disrespected me in a bar after I put major effort into performing a stunt for him and his friends. With that in mind, I would like to know how the world forgave him for calling a witness to testify against his friend, the rapper Shyne, to put him away for ten years, just to avoid having any form of “pesky probation”. Puff, that was a bitch-ass move, so if you’ve still got any actually-scary people around you, send them my way. While I’m on the topic of scary people in the hip-hop community, let me add that my affiliations with the G-Unit are real and anybody whose got any problems with the G-Unit need to take them up with me.

People often ask me if I have beef with Johnny Knoxville and the answer is, and most likely always will be, no. Johnny could have been part of the plan to make sure none of his Jackass sidekicks got paid shit for our Jackass movie, but he refused to set foot in front of a camera before his boys were taken care of. Johnny also recently purchased a “his and hers” set of firearms for him and his wife. He told me that he bought her a “nice and light Smith and Wesson hammerless .38” to shoot him and I’m telling him to use his “sweet Winchester twelve-gauge” on me, for sharing that information.

I’m really getting hot now, so let me move on to Christianity. I would never burn down a church, because that would be to ruin a building that could potentially be used for productive activity one day. I will say that the Holy Shroud of Turin displays an image of Leonardo Da Vinci, not Jesus, and for Christians to feel that Jesus died for us to put our sins on his “tab” is revolting to me. When I do wrong like to hold myself accountable, not Jesus. If any of you Christian assholes don’t like that, then, please, fucking shoot me.

While I’ve been writing this, I’ve felt as though a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel great, I’m going to go out and do something really silly. For all the people do don’t like the silly things I do, remember, you’ll be just as dead as me when your great-grandchildren are loving that fucking shit.



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