When you’re brought into an orphanage and you start cursing out the nuns and yell “This isn’t my home!” they beat you with a stick and say “Home is where the heart is, you little prick!” I never understood this saying. How the hell can home be where your heart is? If that was true then everyone’s true home would be in their own chest! Does that make any sense? If your home is where your heart is that means no matter where you travel to, you’re always at home. Obviously people don’t feel that way. When you leave home for long enough you get homesick because you miss it. If home was where the heart is then you’d never miss it because you’d always be walking around with your chest cavity. If home is where the heart is then people who received heart transplants would have their home in a glass jar or wherever they put the old bad heart that got removed. If home was really where the heart is then that would mean that there’s no such thing as homeless people. If they have hearts then they have homes. When you see a hobo on the sidewalk, don’t feel bad, he’s got a home right there under his dirty shirt. No, of course he doesn’t have a home and it’s time to stop bullshitting. Home is not where your heart is, it’s where your fucking refrigerator is.
|Home sweet THORAX.|