The Black Sheep

Who is the black sheep of the family?
Some people say that they are the black sheep.  In fact, I think pretty much everyone feels like the black sheep at some time or another.  I believe that perhaps my family believes I am both the black sheep and god's avenging angel of death at the same time.  I am neither.  I am just a mad scientist hotrodding the fuck out of metal and trying to create badassednessecity by my chimmichinchin, and on a shoestring budget.
I know that sheep are a thing.  I could care less what color their fur is.  I own a ton of wool sweaters and socks.  None of them are white, not even the ones that used to be, because white always turns grey.  I own a shitload of grey t-shirts and wifebeaters.
Nevertheless, one of my brothers, the most conformist of us, has chosen to portray himself as a black sheep.  Except that nobody believes him.  Well, guess what?  Stop being an attention whore.
You tell me that you are cutting; but I don't see any scars.  And you tell me that you are fucking all kinds of hot chicks; but every time you invite me to a party it's fucking highschool shit AND a sausage fest.  For a guy in his twenties, that's fucking pathetic.  For a guy in his thirties to try to keep that shit up, is way beyond pathetic.  There are no words to describe it.
So if you are trying to be an attention whore/cutter/emo/satanist/suicidal prick/untalented bullshit artist, I say this:  You can kill yourself all you want.  I don't give a fuck.  Promptly remove yourself from the gene pool, the rest of us will be better off without you.
I used to give a shit about people like you; but then I caught an arrow to the knee.  I don't give a shit about you and your weak crew.  I got problems of my own, bitch.  Show yourself, I'll cure you with some bitchslap therapy.