Today you’re one of those fucking assholes who knows a little bit about everything but doesn’t really actually shit about shit. This will become readily apparent to the rest of the general population when, during a bus ride, someone mentions Aqua Teen Hunger Force near you on the bus. You’ll realize you have something to contribute to the conversation, so you’ll ahem, tap the speaker on the shoulder, an attractive young woman riddled with piercings, and open your retarded mouth.
“That show isn’t very realistic,” you’ll loudly declare.
“What?” she’ll say, staring at you like you’re insane.
“Super Size Me is a much better take on the fast food industry.”
She’ll give you a once over, nod politely, say “Thanks” and then turn back to her friends, talking, more quietly now, about how she wants to vacation in North Africa.
“Belize is supposed to be lovely this time of year,” you’ll whisper into her ear, your breath tickling the back of her neck as you speak. She’ll all but jump at first, before rotating slowly in her seat to look at you.
“Please fuck off,” she’ll say, her eyes burning with hatred.
“Fuck is a shorthand for fornicating under consent of the king, generated from a royal decree following the ravages of the Black Plague during the Dark Ages, aimed at repopulating Europe,” you’ll reply, staring at an area just to the left of her head.
Her friend will shake his head, stand up and join in.
“I’m almost positive that’s only one of several unproven etymologies. Could you please leave us alone?”
You won’t be perturbed, however. This isn’t your first time at the rodeo.
“Etymologists study bugs,” you’ll smugly declare. “Or cookies. I’m not completely sure.”
The girl will stare at you once again. Her hand will quiver, her muscles straining to keep from slapping you. She’ll open her mouth, close it, then open it again. She’ll be struggling to decide just how to get you to leave her alone for the rest of her life when it dawns on her.
She’ll surge forward, crashing her body into yours and press her mouth into your face, aggressively kissing you. Her tongue will flow inside your mouth and root around, carefully examining each of your fillings, seeking some sort of purchase it won’t find. Then she’ll push you away and politely say, “Please leave.”
Another successful romantic interlude!
Congratulations Dilettante!
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