Suburban Cannibal?

Suburbia

- suburb: a residential district located on the outskirts of a city
- suburbanites considered as a cultural class or subculture
- place where prom queens & virginity still exist

Long before I became the Urban Cannibal I was a Suburban Animal trying desperately to escape the pre-portioned backyards, cookie cutter castles of kittens or kids and the cancer of casual community. My friends and I fought hard to punch on through the ‘burbs bag of blissful ignorance, we knew that just beyond the greenbelts and veined valleys sat the bloated beast that is “The City”. Ominous in size but ripe with possibility, promise and Poon-Tang (dear diary, I used the word Poon-Tang in a blog today – that was swell!), The City rose like a phoenix from the meadows of mediocrity that engulfed us – upon it’s fiery wings we’d soar above it all. Not that our little suburban nest was unsightly, far from it, it was beautiful; sprawling fields, immense evergreens and Stepford daughters by the dozen! For such a peaceful paradise one would be hard pressed to find anyone willing to leave “The Shire”, but like it was for Bilbo Baggins, adventure was brewing off in the distance like a cannibal’s cauldron and it smelled delectable.

Shortly after high school most of “The Boys” (The Dark Pig being one of said “boys”) sought to leave the suburban wasteland and make our fine fortunes out in the wild, wild world beyond the paradise skies - one remained behind but he spawned quite early in the game. Me? After having escaped over a decade ago, it saddens me to report that I am headed back from wench I came…

In the back of our minds we all knew that one day the tables would show signs of turning and that we’d somehow end up once more suckling at the boulevard bosom of the ‘burbs, but I’m the Urban Cannibal, how the hell am I supposed to make this work? My cannibalism doesn’t go over well in smaller communities – missing persons tend to be missed. Kittens are cherished, children are cuddled and housewives are shackled to appliances – I will be forced to re-adapt to my natural habitat, leave the slick city streets to its rightful heir – the KIDS. I will hear them out partying in the streets from my suburban hutch. I’ll stand out on the lawn and occasionally howl at the moon just to prove to myself that I still can.

We move in less than a month and I am petrified of what I will become.

iPod played “Ben Folds - Rockin' The Suburbs” while posting