Fight club

So you think you've got the bead on some new fad or fashion? Some elite code to make your life sum up?

Here at Fight Club, we don't settle for that. You see, without driving past that line, you never know where the breaking point is. Without knowing where the breaking point is, you don't know where YOU are. You have to know where your boundaries are before you can know where you are, right? Some fuzzy, nebulous blob of a man or woman? A Harvey Milktoast, the mutt of world humanity?

No, you've got to define and refine your EDGE. You've got to sculpt that mass of fat and flesh into something. That postmodern brain fed by mass media into a well-defined polytope of hyperdimensional geometry. With lines so fine, no one can doubt you, because never have they themselves been so beaten without you uttering a single word.

What are you doing here anyway? You must have failed, because I'm re-reading my own shit. Go back Home. Now you're going to have to get some gals to suck the cock for me, so start worrying about that, too.