Holy fuck, I almost forgot about this. How many months has it been now? A year even? Damn.

To be honest, there's not much left to say. If anything, this whole ranting experience has been kinda therapeutic. Screw expensive therapy sessions, all you really need is a laptop and people who listen to whatever bullshit spews from your pie-hole.

I guess I've grown accustomed to all this weird shit. I mean, now that it's all sunk in, it made me think – Are these people even writing about me? I mean, yeah, sort of, but it's such a twisted version of me that in a way, it's not me. That makes perfect sense. Right?

Besides, life goes on as normal. That's all fanfics really are, right? Fan made fiction? If it's not real, then there's no need to get pissed about it. If it's real in your heart or whatever, then sure. Fine. Go for it. I don't need to worry about gay love fests and being a lady-person, because none of that shit's real.

So, yeah. The whole ranting thing is therapeutic as fuck. It's like having a chick-flick style talk about your feelings, just with more profanity and a wider audience. And it feels kinda good. Like a coming of age experience.

And because of that, I'm not really sure what shit I should rant about. So, to wrap thing whole thing up for good, I threw in snippets of rants I had in the last few months. Most of them are random, and probably not even that significant to actually put up here, but hey, you guys seem to keep coming back to hear my crap, so I'll put it out anyway.

Most of this stuff just came out of the blue. You know, the kind of things that you think about momentarily while staring into a fridge, or self-monologues you think up when you're staring at a tub of pig-fat who pushed in front of you in the lunch line and just took the last chicken wing because he's an absolute fucking dickrag and he's taunting you with it like the cocknugget he is.

That kind of casual stuff, yeah.

So, take a look through these. Some are recordings I took that have been written down, and others are ramblings in notebooks. Knock yourselves out.

Why you shouldn't ride the Deathcoaster

-Start of Recording-

Ok, so everyone's trying to drag me onto this new ride called the Deathcoaster. He seems pretty dead set on filming this shit, for whatever reason.

Why are you filming this anyway?

Dammit Stan, 'Later' isn't much of a fucking response. What, are you gonna make it famous on Youtube or something like that? America's Funniest Home videos?

Fine. As long as we split the cash.

Stan? You're getting all of this, right? Yeah, he's getting this. Ok.

So we're in the car now. The line was pretty damn long and I still don't wanna be here, but whatever. It's just a rollercoaster, right? What's the hype about this one? Stan?

Wait, what the fuck do you mean.

Stan, this isn't funny.

WAIT WAIT WAIT, LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT. SO THE CAR IS ON A BUNGEE CORD AND THE TRACK DROPS HALFWAY?

WHO THE FUCK DESIGNED THIS

NO

WHY THE FUCK WOULD ARCHITECTURE STUDENTS BUILD A ROLLERCOASTER. I DON'T CARE IF THEY HAVE COLLEGE EDUCATION STAN, THE CURRICULUM IS BUILT ON LIES ANYWAY.

FUCK IT STAN, I'M GETTING OFF. You dick! You said it was just a regular coaster!

Damn right I wouldn't of gotten on if I knew that!

No, fuck this Stan, I'm getting off. Oh shit. OH SHIT, THE BAR WON'T MOVE.

THE. BAR. WON'T. MOVE.

OH FUCKFUCKFUCK IT'S MAKING NOISES. IT'S MOVING. STAN THIS GODDAMN CAR IS MOVING. LET ME OFF.

NONONONONOno. SOMEONE. HELP. GET ME OFF THIS THING. IT'S GONNA DEFY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS. I DON'T WANT ANY PART IN DEFYING PHYSICS.

NONONONONOnoonono

HELP ME

STAAAAAN YOU FUCKING ASSWIPE IT'S MOVING HOLY DICKBALLS YOU ARE SUCH AN ASSHOLE

THIS ISN'T FUNNY, STOP LAUGHING.

STAN WE'RE GONNA HAVE OUR NECKS BROKEN. YOU WON'T BE LAUGHING WHEN YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD. IF THIS DOESN'T KILL US THEN I WILL.

STANSTANSTAN THE DROP IS RIGHT FUCKING THERE ARE YOU SHITTING ME.

THIS WAS CLEARLY DESIGNED BY A SERIAL KILLER. I TOLD YOU NOT TO TRUST THE FUCKING ARCHITECTURE STUDENTS.

THEY PROBABLY WANT TO KILL US AND SELL OUR ORGANS ON THE GODDAMN BLACK MARKET, OR GIVE THEM TO THE FUCKING BIOLOGY NERDS.

I HOPE YOUR FUCKING SPLEEN IS BOUGHT BY A VOODOO WITCH DOCTOR, AND I HOPE HE GRINDS IT INTO A PASTE AND PUTS IT IN CEREAL AND FEEDS IT TO YOUR GODDAMN FAMILY.

THE DROP IS RIGHT FUCKING THERE. I SWEAR TO JESUS, I ACTUALLY SWEAR TO A RELIGIOUS FIGURE I DON'T BELIEVE IN THAT I SURVIVE THIS.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuCK

MEEEEEEEEEeeeeee

SIIIIIIDEWAAAAaaaaaaays

THAT WASN'T FUN. STOP LAUGHING. WE ALMOST DIED

OH MY GOD, KENNY'S DEAD. I FUCKING TOLD YOU.

YOU BASTARD.

KENNY'S DEAD AND YOU'RE LAUGHING, YOU INSENSITIVE ASSHOLE.

What do you mean, do I want to go again? Fuck you, I'm going home.

-End of Recording-

Profanity 101

Words are strange, huh? I mean, most words are good. Some words aren't that great. And other words are considered too evil to be even uttered on TV. You can say a whole ton of words in front of your mom, like 'oboe' or 'humpback whale', but if you say something like 'bitch', you're pretty fucked.

It's just…why is that? What is it about cuss words that makes them so bad? I know, I know, in certain contexts words can hurt people, but cuss words? Eh.

I don't even know where I going with this.

Oh, yeah, and another damn thing. FFTFOB. I tried and I failed with that old thing, sorta like one of those forced memes. And then guess what shit happens? It gets its own Urban Dictionary entry. Man, this is it. I'm going places.

I'm still sure as hell it's not exactly gonna catch on though, since most lazy asses these days can't say most damn words right, let alone some long-winded abbreviation. Even so, Urban Dictionary? That's not half bad. Kinda like a 'you tried' trophy.

Thanks.

I'll screenshot it, frame it, and hide it under my bed. Trying to explain fucking FFTFOB to anyone will be, well…

Oh come on, for old times sake-

A real pile of FFTFOB.

Technology for those over 40

Fuck my existence.

Mom got a new laptop and it's basically hell. Trying to explain technology to adults is hard enough, but it's a test of your mental willpower if it's Windows 8.

Seriously. That shit is unnecessarily difficult to use.

Swipe the screen!

Click here for cheap insurance!

Read the Terms and Conditions! Please note: Terms and Conditions include selling your soul to be ass-whipped by Satan for all eternity

Let's play a game called 'Where the fuck is the Control Panel?'

After that, let's play 'How the fuck do I exit this without fucking up everything?'

OH, AND MY PERSONAL FAVOURITE – HERE'S A FUCKING VIRUS WHICH WILL BASICALLY FUCK YOU OVER LIKE A CHEAP WHORE, HAVE FUCKING FUN WITH THAT.

Fuck that bullshit. I have enough crap to worry about; I don't need this on top of it. Why can't she just stick with Windows 98 like everyone else above 30 does. Ok, maybe not everyone. But at least something she can fucking use without calling me every 5 minutes to ask how the 'thingwhat' works.

Or how to connect with the 'wiffy'

Wiffy

I'm just fucking done with it.

Frozen

I DON'T WANNA BUILD A MOTHERFUCKING SNOWMAN, SO FUCK OFF.

At the start? Yeah, sure, why not? I would've built the fucking snowman. But now? Fuck the snowman.

DON'T TELL ME TO 'CHILL OUT', AND DON'T YOU EVEN FUCKING DARE TELL ME TO 'LET IT GO', YOU ABSOLUTE SACK OF SHIT.

The only shit I'm letting go right now is my control over Caps Lock.

God FUCKING DAMMIT ANNA. Y-YOU DON'T JUST MARRY SOME DUDE CAUSE HE LIKES FUCKING SANDWICHES, YOU ABSOLUTE TIT-STICK.

YOUR SISTER IS PRETTY FUCKING DESPRESSED, SMUSHING LOVE IN HER FACE ISN'T GONNA MAKE HER PENT UP ISSUES EVAPORATE.

OLAF, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN DO. YOUR SOLO IS UNECESSARY AND YOU ARE NOTHNG BUT A MONEY MAKING SNOW SACK. I HAVE MY OWN OPINION. FIGHT ME IF YOU SO WISH.

AND HOLY FUCK DISNEY, YOU'RE MILKING THIS THING LIKE A PRIZED HEFFER. FROZEN SHOWER CAPS. FROZEN SILLY STRING DISPENSERS. WHAT'S FUCKING NEXT? FROZEN LINT ROLLERS? FROZEN NOVELTY BACK SCRATCHERS? THIS FRANCHISE IS EATING OUR COUNTRY ALIVE DAMMIT.

I CAN'T TAKE IT. I CAN' TAKE EVERY GODDAMN KID IN THE STREETS WEARING ELSA DRESSES.

AND A FUCKING SEQUEL.

WOOP DEE DOO

EAT MY ASS, DISNEY.

THE RETURN OF THE COLD WAR IS FUCKING IMMINENT NOW. First, it'll be the queues that go on for FUCKING YEARS at cinemas. Then it's middle aged moms fighting over the shitty merch like its Black Friday. Then society fucking tears itself apart to the sound battle song of LET IT FUCKING GO.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT FOLKS, A DYSTOPIAN SHIT FIELD JUST WAITING FOR A TEENAGE GIRL TO SAVE IT.

Fuck Frozen. And I swear, I will end one of you ass-biscuits if you tell me to let it go.

Fucking fight me.

I'm waiting.

What the fuck even is ~ ? What does it even mean? What's its purpose? Why is it not on the curriculum?

Is ~ meant to be some kinda fancy hypen? I really haven't got much ranting power over this one, I just genuinely want to know what the fuck ~ is.

Anyone?

Do you ever look back at all the old shit you posted on the internet and just wanted to, y'know, die?

Like, what the fuck, was I always that annoying? Was I that much of a dick? Why didn't people tell me? I mean, we can all agree scrolling down to see your first Facebook posts is like asking someone to just end you right then and there.

You know that feel. The feel of wanting to recede back into yourself until you suck yourself out of existence from the sheer disgust and regret. When you have to turn away from the screen and just lie on the floor is pure self-loathing. Even when the floorboards are really fucking uncomfortable, and they do the thing where they mark grooves into your skin, but you don't move because pain is the least you can do to atone for your crimes against your own existence.

Or when you just sit in the corner, wishing for the sweet release of death.

I mean, the internet is great, but it comes at a price – The dumb ass mistakes you make growing up are shared with the world, and you're never truly gonna get rid of them.

And that, is what I learnt today.

Now, back to self-loathing.

The creepy Easter bunny was finally caught. When his head was removed, he was discovered to be Doctor Mephesto, craving the fading taste of screen time.

The chavs from Rant 17 that were never heard of again turned out to have been hit with a 16 wheeler. The driver was praised as a local hero.

FFTFOB never became a thing. Kyle now uses the FFTFOB t-shirts he ordered and planned to make money from selling them as dish rags.

Kyle's Christmas Song went on to become a No.1 smash hit in Colorado for a total of 3 minutes.

Stan's unexplained blushing in Rant 15 turned out to be caused by Cartman sending him Style fanarts on a daily basis. It is unknown if he deleted them or kept them in a folder entitled 'Quadratic Equations'.

YouTube continued to change its layout. Kyle continued to be pissed off about it.

Kyle got a BOTDF CD for his birthday from Cartman. His mother decided to listen to it because the cover looked cute and innocent. Kyle now has hearing problems from her loud and excessive rant.

The piece of shit author went on to update her own fanfics at the incredible rate of one fucking chapter a year.

Kyle's mom finally found out about Kyle throwing dreidels from his window. She confiscated them all from him as punishment. Kyle did not give a shit.

Not even one.

In the very end, Kyle stands at that old' damn pond. It's a pretty fucking big ass pond though, Jesus. The sunset splashes the mountain tops in a shade of weak ass blackcurrant juice, and the Sun's dying rays spill like a toppled can of Mountain Dew at a 12 year old's all night Call of Duty marathon.

He looks wise, but not 'eeeyyy wise-guy' wise, and not quite 'old bearded wizard dude' wise either. More of a 'pre-adolescent who's seen just about enough FFTFOB in his short life' wise. But still, not wise enough to know FFTFOB won't ever take off, no matter how much he forces that dying old thing.

The wind rustles his hat – Normally in fanfics, it would be the dramatic dancing of hair in the wind, but the kid's damn hat is keeping those curly locks from the foxtrot. So instead, his hat just sort of…jiggles. It's a bit fucking weird, to be honest. Some might even wonder if there's any wind at all, and if his crazy hair has gained life, and is just trying to break free.

Maybe, the hair has been ranting all this time? Maybe Kyle's not-exactly innocent young mind has been untainted by the ungodly evils of fictional homoerotic texts from pre-established art forms?

Who knows? Although, it would be one hell of a fucking plot twist.

The young boy places one foot atop a rock, one hand placed manly-ly upon his hip, before sliding on some sick shades. The other arm is rigidly outstretched, pointing to the sun.

A bald eagle cries, and perches upon said arm, coughing up small American flags on cocktail sticks. Ah yes, the true diet of the Bald eagle –Freedom and mini quiches with the ol' Stars and Stripes to boot. From high upon the mountains, a grand orchestra begins to play the national anthem…of Canada. They've stumbled into the wrong fic. In shame, they turn back around as another orchestra appears, and belt out the 'Star Spangled Banner'.

Kyle, with his bald eagle and grooving head accessory, turns to face the reader directly. Yes, you. He's looking at you. Don't bloody ask me how, but by God, that kid is looking right in your face.

He pauses for a moment, before speaking the eternal words that shall finally end this 61 chapter long excuse for fictional text.

"The moral of the story is…"

He pauses again, keeping the drama at its highest peak.

"Friends…"

He pauses again, to allow the eagle to cough up another flag. Darn bird sure does love his mini quiches.

"…before fuck-buddies"

He rips off the shades, so violently that he smacks his ear, scares off the eagle, and manages to drop them into the murky, trolley filled depths of the pond.

But at least he looked cool.

He thinks about how life will be when he's old, surrounded by grand-children, and how he shall rant to them the struggles of his boyhood, and how it will be particularly great as old men have a knack for grumpy ranting.

The sun finally sets, the orchestra go to iHop or whatever food places they have in America, and Kyle waits until the readers have stopped reading, then plunges into the pond because those were his mom's shades and she'll fucking castrate him and he's already been bloody circumcised and he doesn't want to accidentally become a chick and go against the point of this dumb rants and-

-so, it ends as it began – With a Jewish kid yelling angrily about some kinda dumb shit.

Author's note:

HAH. WOW.

HELLO FRIENDS, TIS I, SCUM OF THE INTERNET, PRESENTING YOU THIS LONG OVERDUE CHAPTER ON THE FUCKING ANNIVERSARY OF THE LAST CHAPTER'S RELEASE. Unlike last time, however, this ain't no April Fools prank.

I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Sorry it took forever, but writing fics sadly has no place in my busy schedule anymore. Even so, I pushed it at the last minute to make sure I had it published today. I seem to have a thing for updating on April Fools.

Alas, I can finally sleep easy, knowing this long ass fic which is essentially my legacy upon this site is finished. It really has been a coming of age thing though, I've grown up so much since Chapter 1, and I really just want to thank you all for your constant support and incredible patience. I know this isn't the incredible 5K+ finale extravaganza I promised, but it's been in the works for fucking months, so I hope it will do! (But hey, it's nearly 3000 which ain't too shabby either)

I can't wait until I have free time to write more fics and chat to y'all, but until then, thank you for everything! Thanks to all the friends I made along the way, and all the reviews and just bloody everything.

This is Cookie, and I think I can finally say that 'that kid' has calmed his shit.