I’ve been wronged. Well, truth be told I’ve been doubly wronged because the society I live in lacks any sort of punishment or accountability for the wrong that was inflicted on me. A social crime was committed against me, and it’s not something that those lightweights from the fashion police will be able to handle. This act was of a far more heinous and disgusting nature – not an innocent mistake like wearing a swan to Oscar night. No, instead I must make my appeal to the Illuminati of social interactions – those cultural power players that instituted party fouls and the five-second rule for picking up dropped food. Hear my plea.
It all happened one day. I was talking to one of my friends when out of nowhere he gave me the brain-bang of a lifetime. To this day I have not yet forgiven him. I figure if I run out and accept the apologies of 490 other people I just might be able to get away with it. (Bible comedy in the Hizzouse!) But here’s how it went down:
“Hey what’s up Bret. Oh man, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I was talking with my friend Denise the other day and she was saying how one of her friends is totally all about you – thinks you’re the hottest thing since the flaming core of the earth had not yet been cooled by the rains which now cover so much of its surface. No, for serious man. What? Aw no, I promised I wouldn’t tell. No honestly, Denise would kill me. Whatever man, I don’t think you even know her anyway.”
Aargh! Darn it! Bjork! And a ‘screw you’ to you as well. Is there anything worse that one man can say to another? I’m a lonely person – stuff like that affects me in ways I cannot fully begin to describe. Suddenly I’m all paranoid walking around campus because who knows, my admirer could be anywhere, just waiting to see me screw up so that she can fall out of love with me. Now I’ve gotta swagger everywhere I go and swaggering is tiring and sometimes it makes me chafe. And all the while I’m thinking, is she hot? Why, if she really has this huge crush on me, would she then not ever act on it? What if she’s hot? Was my friend playing a joke on me? Is she perhaps tremendously hot?
So I say sucks to my friend! Sucks to the incredibly hot girl who mysteriously refuses to present herself to me! Sucks to your assmar! And my best wishes to all T.J. Monkey’s readers. But not to your assmar. I repeat, sucks to your assmar.