How to Be a Dick

On October 1, 2015, Chris Mercer killed 9 people on a college campus in Roseburg, Oregon. About 6 months before the shooting, Chris wrote this book, which he was planning to publish on Kindle. Chris was very much a loner. He trusted me, his friend and weed connection, with a copy of his book. The book you are holding is a unique glimpse into the mind of a Lone Wolf. My name is Frank, or "Skunk" to my friends. I grow and sell weed in my hometown of Roseburg, Oregon. I met Chris Mercer in July, 2014. We had a lot in common: we both loved to smoke weed, we were both "fanatical" atheists, which means we detest and despise any idiot faction of religion. We became fast friends, meeting about once a month at the banks of the beautiful Umpqua river, to smoke dope, tell stories, and laugh about shit. At one point Chris told me that he had written a book about getting rich and scoring with chicks I was surprised, because Chris was far from being rich, as he lived with his Mom in an apartment. Hell, I was rich compared to him. Also, while I had my steady girlfriend, Chris never acted like a pussy hound. He didn't act gay either, he struck me as a guy who doesn't think about sex that much at all. Chris offered me a digital copy of his book, and I promised him I'd read it, and give him my honest opinion. The book was a trip into the bizarre. The strangest part about it was the cruel way he ridiculed the readers of his book I asked him why he did that, and he said he was just being funny, and that cruel humor is what's most popular today. After I read his book, and remembered the strange way he talked about it, like he was on crystal meth or something, so wild-eyed, so manic in his fanatical feelings towards people he didn't like, I decided to back up a bit, and avoid seeing him, at least for a while. My reasoning was that all his talk about killing people, or what he calls a "significant reduction in global population," was not my bag. I'm a dedicated stoner, and stoners are happy thinking pleasant thoughts, not destructive and dangerous ideas. So, whenever he'd call or text, I'd say I'm busy, or I'm waiting to meet someone. Fast forward to October 2, 2015. My whole town is in panic. The news is talking about a mass murderer on the umpqua community college campus. And when they showed Chris' picture, and said his name, I almost shit my pants. I was so stoned, that I became paranoid. I thought the FBI might come and ask me questions, even though I had zero knowledge of any of this killing shit. My fear overwhelmed me, and I threw away about 20 immature pot plants I was growing in my home.: ( After all the chaos died down, and I realized there would be no FBI investigation, my life began to return to normal. One day I remembered that I had the digital manuscript Chris gave me to review for him. To be clear, I do not condone or approve the massacre at the college. It was horrible. That said, I still consider Chris Mercer to be a friend, albeit a friend with mental issues. I can't help but feel a little guilty. The way we used to talk, about hating niggers, hating Jesus-Freaks, maybe that loose talk motivated him? And when I stopped meeting with him, and stopped selling him weed...maybe I should have given him even more weed? To calm him down? If I could go back in time, I'd get him so stoned that he'd forget all about hating anyone, and just sit back and enjoy life. I am publishing this book to honor my friend Chris. A second reason is this: if you are going through a rough patch in your life, and you see a similar style of crazy thoughts in you, PLEASE smoke as much weed as you can, until you chill out. The rest of the world will thank you.