The only person I want to make feel like crap, is you, Gen.

Girls coming straight out of high school are going to listen to you, or your man, as those words tell them that everything is fine, don't worry about the consequences, just jump in.

You'll see things quite differently in ten years...unless you've got an ad in the back of the LA WEEKLY then, selling your ass for cash to any fat pig with a combover.

Maybe one of the new girls will personally thank you, Gen, or Gen's man, when she can't figure out why she's itching, bleeding and burning...because hey, she got 'tested' and veteran Gen Padova- or her man- said everything would be fine.

I piss you off because underneath all the shit you spew you know I'm right. You have a heart, but you can't speak your mind because Mr. Red Light and Mr. JM and Mr. Sineplex all come here.

Will they help out poor girls straight out of high school by being honest with them? Nope. Will they make sure these angry young women are protected on the sets? Nope.

Why?

Because for one, being honest costs MONEY.

And secondly...they can always point to YOU, dear Gen, as a perfect example of why nothing needs to change.

You're a tool, and that's all you are.

When you become more than a tool, and you actually acquire a brain, talk to me then.

For now, I'm just going to lump you into the bin where you belong...

The Toolbin.

The Outsider